


Repeating History

by RosyLilac



Series: Fate's Tapestry (and its reoccuring patterns) [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Amputation, Badass Eren Yeager, Canon-Typical Violence, Eren Stop Adopting Kids Challenge: Fail, Eren is too busy saving everyone, Eren noticed the reoccurring patterns and sick of every single one of them, Eren tries to be a nice person and not making world wars this time, False Identity, Friends to Lovers, Furlan Church & Isabel Magnolia Lives, Hange Zoë & Eren Yaeger are Best Friends, Levi & Eren are childhood friends, Manga Spoilers, Marco Bott lives, Minor Character Death, Multi, Mutual Pining, Nonbinary Hange Zoë, Pining Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Protective Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Rating May Change, Slow Burn, Trans Eren Yeager, Trans Male Character, Ymir Lives, please save Levi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2019-09-01 06:51:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 85,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16760122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosyLilac/pseuds/RosyLilac
Summary: Levi had always been a sucker for those gem-like eyes. Those eyes beseeched him to do their bidding; from smuggling literal horseshit for fertilizing his precious garden, to adopting three kids and a teenager without Levi putting the ring on him let alone growing the balls to confess yet ("It's been 18 years, Levi," Farlan reminded him, the long-suffering witness). And the effect didn’t lessen when those eyes were as big as double his head and the owner now a fifteen meter of bone-white, bare-assed, hammer-swinging juggernaut currently begging to be allowed to cross the sodding ocean to meet up with his psycho older nephew and conduct a peace summit with delegations from all over the world.a.k.a How Eren Jaeger channeled Ymir Fritz, got thrown backward in time, stuffed himself into his aunt’s dead body while stealing a titan, and proceed to save (almost) everybody’s life. And somehow, no matter how many things Eren redid right, Levi still ended up suffering from dealing with his antics. [MAJOR SPOILERS FROM THE ANIME AND MANGA UP TO CHAPTER 111]





	1. Inheritance Ceremony

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction and my first work on AO3. Also, this is my first attempt of writing SnK/AoT time-travel story. Please bear with technical mistakes, such as grammar and typos because English is not my native language. This work contain MAJOR SPOILERS from both the anime and manga up to chapter 111. Future!Eren goes by 'Faye'.

Abigail Tybur didn't know how to react to this.

Her brother had just fallen over and tipped back on his chair, falling onto the floor in an undignified heap. In the middle of the family lunch. Only when he hung limply, unresponsive with unseeing eyes in the hold of a guard after a nearby cousin tried to pull him back on his feet, Abigail rushed towards the commotion. His pulse stilled long before she reached his jugular.

Her brother was quite a jokester; pulling tricks and harmless pranks despite his age. Most Tybur men were often like that; carefree and full of smiles, they’re easy to approach and got along with just anyone. Which became a valuable asset when you needed to thread the intricacies of politics, and weaving connections with other socialites. Her brother was prone to practical jokes that Abigail and the rest of their family had long desensitized to. He made a fool of himself for the sake of entertaining the children nowadays. Abigail was chosen as the head of the family simply because she was more level-headed, but in turn, her brother inherited the War Hammer Titan in her stead. Her children would inherit it once the time comes. She and her husband was just planning to have their first next year.

Therefore, it was a disaster of apocalyptic proportions when her brother died from a sudden cardiac arrest completely out of nowhere.

Abigail missed her brother funeral. Caught up with organizing the incoming press conference, announcing the private funeral, the half-truths of the details, accepting letters of condolences but never got the time to read any. Flowers piled up in the living room as her family members walked their mansion hall with disquiet movements and crippling fear within their hearts. The young ones cried for the loss of their favorite uncle and cousin.

She lied through her teeth that her brother’s health had been declining, they all had mutually decided to push forward the Inheritance Ceremony before her brother’s thirteen years term ended. _The War Hammer is safe_ , she said to the Marleyan government official that came to visit their estate for brunch. Abigail expressed her family's decision to keep the identity of the new holder a secret, that part was genuine.

She already launched all of her available agents to dive straight into the investigation the minute her brother was pronounced clinically dead. She ordered them to comb through every single hospital records in Marley for babies born on the exact date and time of the abrupt end of their family lunch. With a fine-tooth comb, they checked every newborn for signs of titan gene, with every known tests and observations.

After a week, the investigation turned up nothing.

She conducted an investigation in the slums of the country, looking for undocumented births and came up empty-handed. She contacted her many connections abroad, checking for the birth records across the globe, checking the records of each baby’s conditions. Even when she's aware it’s impossible that the connection would travel so far that a baby beyond Marley would inherit the Warhammer.

Abigail Tybur and the rest of the family were left to silently move forward and keep up the pretense of control.

Elsewhere, on the day William Tybur Sr. stopped breathing, a bloody, mangled little body by the riverbank breathe again. Steam rose to vanish into the sky, and the river flowed to the sea.

Eren Jaeger made his way to freedom


	2. A Garden Underneath The Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith Shadis started a legend, Levi lost a shoe and decided he likes pies better than cakes.

** 828 **

Keith Shadis would not have believed it if it weren’t for the witnesses who prattled the same thing.

There’s been a series of odd reports, from soldiers coming back from expeditions in the past decade; a sighting of an aberrant who stood still like a statue, looking like one too, if the reports were to be believed. Survivors described its resemblance to a half-finished sculpture. Its entire body marble-white, clearly shaped humanoid, but no distinctive features such as hair or a proper face. It was tall, ideally-proportioned, and approximately fifteen-meter. The size alone would send down chills to the spine, enough that observers kicked their horses into gear instead of looking back to get a clear look on its face.

Keith would not have believed if he didn’t witness it with his own two eyes.

Exactly as the report described; fifteen meters tall, marble skin acting as if it’s hiding the face like a mask, red flesh from collarbones to mouth exposed through the segmented mesh of skin –perhaps to allow the neck joints to move smoothly. A silent sentinel; standing at a far, safe distance from the Walls. Just. There. As if welcoming them to the enormous, uncharted, open world. Or, warning them for the danger it holds.

The most peculiar was how it didn’t move at all, even when the Scouts tried to ride past it in a safe but still _too-close-to-be-healthy_ distance (who the fuck wrote this report? Keith needed to talk to the moron), it didn’t seem to be interested in them. Only after the horses were not within its line of sight, it moved. Stride steady and focused, stature postured perfectly straight, unlike the usual titan stumble and hobble. It didn’t advance to chase, always disappeared into the forest. It never looked back.

Other than minding its own business, normal titans also minded their own whenever the aberrant’s around. Whenever one caught sight of the aberrant, they hesitated and hobbled away slowly. The aberrant observed this with its stoic, smooth face, bald head following the way the mindless titan scuttled away; bemused.

The best thing that came with this peculiarity was that the road would be guaranteed to be clear of greedy, hungry titans. That didn’t mean the expedition became any less dangerous. They would still be attacked and eaten in the forests, or when they had gotten far enough from the aberrant, but their journey’s beginning and returning became much easier. The aberrant observed the scouts’ formation, then standing guard in the most traveled path. Letting them pass safely with minimal mindless titan encounters.

It’s a welcomed gesture, but they’re all too preoccupied with the terror that came with the implication of that gesture. The aberrant was _intelligent._

It observed the smoke signals and quickly learned its color-coded meanings. Sometimes it entered the forest when a red smoke signal was shot into the air and it went to the direction of the source. The aberrant was often too late to interfere the feast other titans made of the soldiers, but enough to fend them off with its presence and gave the survivors a window to escape. It stayed behind to face the hungry beasts, while the Scouts never looked back. Some part of the forest started to have fewer titans around, and the Scouts learned to take those paths if they wished to go back quickly without bearing more casualties.

A docile aberrant, which other titans avoided like a plague.

It’s not until Keith came close to meet its eyes that they finally know why.

To be honest, they would’ve known sooner if they had actually looked back whenever they went past the giant sentinel.

Keith cursed when the latest greenhorn swinging above him got plucked midair and crushed within the fist of a ten-meters'. Her scream was cut off as her torso chomped clean off, spraying blood onto Keith’s back. The others were not faring any better. They all had to abandon their horses and took to the trees, but it didn’t hinder the seven titans that ambushed and chased after his squad.

The long gurgling groan was too close to his ears, he cursed and cast his wires hastily to the right, narrowly avoiding a swat from a gigantic hand. Keith cast his wires again to the other direction, flying with blades brandished, cutting the ten-meter nape clean with a grunt.

It’s not good odds, he thought as he landed on a branch and leaned flat against tree bark, away from the titan’s line of sight. He told himself he’s just catching his breath, but he knew, from the way his knees quivering, tongue brittle, and shriveled heartbeats pounding blood to his skull, that he's just being a coward.

Despite that single victory, his soldiers still dying left and right around him. The smell of coppery blood tangible in the air, the greenhorn’s own splatter dripping down Keith’s back like a cold sweat. Few soldiers managed to kill one with haphazard teamwork, but the remaining five giants kept hurtling and lunging at the slower, distracted soldiers. There’s only four of them left, including Keith.

He roared to dispel the fear gripping him, leaping to an oblivious eight-meter passing his tree and drove his blades across its skin. Keith missed the nape, slashing open a wound on its back instead. It turned to meet his eyes, grabbing the branch Keith was on to support its swaying stomps. Keith belatedly realized he’s still hooked to the branch.

It snapped from the titan’s weight, thrown to the side of the forest and yanking Keith from his swing trajectory and threw him off balance. He screamed as the ground met his side, skidding across the dirt until his head hit a tree. Keith scrambled to stand, but his other wire, the one stuck to the branch, tangled somewhere anchoring him in the mercy of the earth.

The screams and curses of soldiers reverberated above him, rippling through the rustling trees and blurring with the tell-tale ground-rattling steps of titans. The eight-meter grinned down to him, Keith felt his blood drained down from his head.

A glint of white peeking from foliage across him momentarily distracted Keith from his impending death.

Keith followed the shape of a giant toe up to meet the marble-white mask of the aberrant. In the darkness, he realized the mask-like skin didn’t fully cover everything besides the neck. Glimmering green eyes peeked through the segmented mesh of skin, impassively watching beneath the shadow of foliage. Their eyes met.

The titan would only stand there and watch as he's being devoured.

Keith felt an amalgamation of indignant fury and paralyzing desperation surged within him, it exploded from his throat in a form of a wounded howl;

“DO SOMETHING, YOU ASSHOLE!”

His demand bludgeoned the air, breaking through the rumbling stomps and panicked screams.

He might’ve imagined it, but the aberrant’s huff sounded approving.

The earth grumbled and crumbled apart. Keith flinched into a frightened curl as something broke free from beneath; glinting like knives, hundreds of spiraling spikes grew from the earth. The advancing eight-meter halted in its step with a pained whine as its feet immobilized, the spikes also pierced the feet of the other titans and halted their stomps. One even stumbled and slipped, falling straight into the spikes, trapped it like a butterfly with wings pierced.

The downed titan didn’t see the axe coming.

The aberrant swung a giant axe down to the prostrating titan’s nape, beheading it clean off.

It didn’t wait for the head to roll; the aberrant swung the blunt end of the giant axe made of crystal to the stomach of the eight-meter. It spun in the air and bounced down against the earth, shaking off dirt and grass. Lightning-fast, the aberrant’s arm was a blur as it seemingly threw something towards the two remaining titans on the other side.

Both of titans’ hands, each mid-reach towards a swinging soldier, become encased in crystal. Pinning them to the bark of a tree.

The aberrant lunged.

Axe swinging to the closest titan. _Chop._ Blood spraying like an explosion of red. A head rolled to the ground.

Another swing. _Chop._ A spray of blood. Another head.

The white sentinel stood still, watching steam rose from disintegrating carcasses. The forest stilled with him. No one dared to move, his remaining soldiers shaking from where they hid behind the foliage, their faces ashen. Then, the aberrant turned away, looking down towards Keith.

Keith realized with a strangled gasp, the eight-meter was still alive. It struggled to stand, wobbling to catch its balance. The aberrant heeded it no mind; seemingly far more interested in Keith.

He gulped. Did it decide it wanted to devour humans after all? Or did it expect payment for killing three titans for them?

The aberrant huffed, breath white steam in the air, soldiers nearby flinched. The axe placed on its shoulder, casual. It cocked its head to the swaying eight-meter without taking off its gaze from Keith. Expectant.

Keith realized it wanted him to finish the eight-meter by himself.

 _Do something about it._ The aberrant seemingly hinted.

In an ironic mirror of the eight-meter, Keith struggled to stand back up, his entire body shaking from adrenaline, shriveled heart pumping like a beat of a drum. Keith shot a wire to a tree, flying off before the eight-meter could catch him. He let out a roar, spinning through the air as his blades drove down hard through its nape.

The eight-meter fell at the aberrant’s feet.

His ragged breathing was deafening in the silent forest, Keith’s knees shaking as he tried to stand straight in front of the aberrant. It regarded him with its impassive mask. Then, the Scouts flinched as the axe shattered, falling to the ground in a million tiny pieces of sparkling crystal. They disintegrated into dust as they reached the ground. The aberrant nodded. Satisfied.

Keith fell to his knees, tears flooding, as the aberrant walked away, disappearing deeper into the forest. The earth trembling with each gargantuan step.

.

They began to call it The Crystal Titan.

Some Survey Corps soldiers, or those from the Garrison who's keeping a lookout for activities outside the wall, began to see its presence in expeditions as a sign of good omen. But they’re all too chickenshit to actually interact with it to learn more of the docile giant. Keith had been pushing for a mission to interact and possibly capture the Crystal Titan to help humanity, instead of just relying on its sporadic appearances. But the Commander wouldn’t let it. The risk was too high, despite many insisted the Crystal Titan was docile, or at the very least, indifferent enough it wouldn’t harm them.

“Well, it’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Carla set down a bowl of stew and slices of bread in front of him, smiling indulgently through his retelling. The tavern was less crowded this afternoon, and Carla could spare a minute or two listening to a friend’s tale without much haste. “One of humanity’s greatest enemies becomes a sentinel of humanity. Your job has become much easier, Keith.”

“But don’t you think it’s strange?” Keith accepted a napkin from Carla. “What makes this aberrant so intelligent? Why doesn’t it attack humans? Why did it protect us? If we make contact with it–”

“Is it intelligent enough to speak?” Carla interjected calmly, placing down his drink. She was used to Keith’s enthusiastic rambling after each expedition. She let him babble; her loyal customer had become subdued in the past after each failed expedition, but lately, he began to regain his passion for exploring and learning the land beyond the Walls. Thanks to the mysterious, infamous Crystal Titan.

The rumors had gotten out of the Survey Corps’ control and leaked to the public. People were whispering about it; too many believed it to be nothing but mere empty chatter, claiming it must’ve been nonsense incited by the drunkards from the Garrison. Again. Or the soldier of the Corps had gotten intoxicated before the expedition, experienced a vivid hallucination, and yapped about it on his way back in.

Carla, well, she couldn’t side with the last speculation. Because the said soldier was her own friend, and Keith was a responsible soldier who wouldn’t do such a thing. Yapping about it in public though? He’s doing it right now.

“It’s possible! It understood me! I’m telling you, Carla! If we can get it to work with us, imagine how easy it would be to retake our land! We can annihilate all of the titans faster, we can expand! We won’t need Walls anymore!”

Carla tutted playfully, shaking her head. “I don’t think the Crystal Titan would want to help us if our end goal is to annihilate _all_ titans. If it’s intelligent, I’m sure it would think; _what would happen to me when I’ve served my purpose?_ What would happen if it decided it’s going to annihilate _us_ because we posed a threat to its existence? Because we became greedy after it gives us a show of goodwill?”

Carla raised an eyebrow as Keith had finally subdued. At loss for words. She patted his back consolingly. “Think of a better bargain, and maybe you can negotiate the terms with the titan –if it _can_ really communicate, that is. But Keith–”

She waited until her friend returned her stern look. “ _Nothing_ is worth the risk if you’re going to endanger your comrades. I may have not experienced loss like soldiers such as you, but I know the worth of human life. You _cannot_ be careless with them, especially when you’re responsible for many, now that you are a captain,” Carla straightened her back, suddenly she became as regal and imposing as the white-marble sentinel. “The weight of their worth rest upon your back.”

Keith nodded, slowly. “I understand that, Carla. I know.” The memory of a shower of blood on his back echoed faintly.

The illusion shattered as she returned to the kind, but fierce woman she is. Carla huffed, approving. “Well then! I’ll be off tending to the other customers. Oh, and Keith, bring someone next time, won’t you?”

Keith chuckled as he brought the rim of his beer mug to his lips. “Sure. More profit for the tavern, eh?”

“No. Bring someone next time, because you look miserable, eating your meal in the corner all lonesome. Don’t you have friends?” Carla grinned, her apron twirling with her as she turned to make way to the other patrons. “All that stress wasn’t good for your face, must’ve scared them all off with those dark eye bags, huh?”

.

** 832 **

The Crystal Titan made itself scarce the day Grisha Jaeger was found.

Keith resented this silently. He wasn't able to prove it, but he had a hunch they have a correlation.

The Crystal Titan never showed its face again, not even to stand idly on the road to greet the squad with its silence. But it worked diligently out of sight, from the occasional steaming carcasses of titans the Scouts found. Keith tried to look for it by following the breadcrumbs made of flesh it had left behind, but he turned up empty-handed each time. For such a colossal being, it was as elusive as a fox.

Over the years, it seemed like the Crystal Titan either relocated too far away, or it was defeated somehow -because the mindless titans started to rise in numbers again. The main road from the outer gates still scarce of titans and relatively safe to travel through, but they couldn’t let their guard down once they went deeper into titan’s territory, left the open road and into the forests. He became the Commander of Survey Corps, the weight Carla spoke of grew heavier, and heavier. Keith lost too many, and had little to show from such heavy sacrifices.

Keith Shadis decided that he would pass down his title to those who could do it justice. The chosen ones often will.

.

** 829 **

Levi cursed his luck.

It was supposed to be a run-in-the-mill gang fight, with him taking one side that paid him first, then spent his earnings for food after beating up some lowlifes. One of the bastards on the other side just had to have a gun on him.

The booming sound of exploding gunpowder scattered everyone into every direction like headless chickens, screaming and cursing as they scrambled to flee. And just his luck, said bastard had a vendetta against Levi in particular for allegedly humiliating the bastard last week, beating him bloody in front of his underlings, stripped him off his new jacket and robbed him penniless.

That sounded like something he would do, so Levi couldn’t really deny it. Not that he wanted to. That jacket was pretty decent, and it was surprisingly clean –so maybe he _did_ rob that guy last week, he couldn’t be sure though. He robbed a lot of people daily.

He figured it was a good judgment to scale up the worn out buildings and lost his pursuers through the rooftops, though it was quite tricky; his shitty, ill-fitting shoes kept threatening to slip off whilst he’s climbing. That wasn’t a good judgment at all, because he forgot that this part of the town where the gangs met up was a particular part of the Underground where the buildings were built on the edge of the upper level. This means, if he slid down this roof to one side, he would fall into the abandoned slums far, _far_ below. But on the other side, he’d run the risk of being gunned down, then dragged to be beaten down bloody to the inch of his life. 

That decision was taken out of his hands, however, when a loud gunshot blared behind him, and his shoulder felt like its being torn apart and set on fire.

Levi couldn't push back the strangled scream from his throat, his balance was thrown off-axis from the screaming pain on his shoulder. Wet red bloomed on his white shirt as he felt himself tripping on a jutted roof tile. His ankle bent painfully, he’s sliding down the other side of the roof faster than he could blink.

He barely registered the shouts from his pursuers, too busy stumbling and scrambling to find a grip before he-

If flying felt like throwing away all control of his body, he didn’t want to fly at all. Levi fell with a loud curse, a part of his mind snorted at the fact that his last words would be damning the earthen ceiling. He’s gonna be a heap of shattered bones and smear of filthy blood when he hits the ground.

Unexpectedly, his fall was not as bad as he thought.

He didn’t break his spine for one, and the ground he landed on was soft. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of tall, thick greens and burst of yellows tickling his skin through his clothes. They slowed down his fall. The smell of sweet weed and fresh air assaulted his nose, and despite his wheezing cough from the impact, the air smelled cleaner and fresher than he had ever tasted in his life. Sunlight streamed down steadily around him, enveloping him like a warm blanket.

He swore he heard somebody’s startled yelp when he landed. A rustle of hurried footsteps increasingly clearer and louder the closer it got to Levi.

A shadow fell over his closed eyelids, blocking the rare treat of sunlight; a telltale of a person’s silhouette. The person gasped.

“Maria! You’re bleeding! Shit, that’s a gunshot wound.”

 _Really, I had no fuckin idea_. Levi was about to click his tongue and spat something snide, but when he opened his eyes to glare at his target of offense, his tongue got stuck onto the roof of his mouth as he was overcome with the need to rob blind those pair of green-blue gems this person has for eyes. If his mother’s stories were to be believed, those were what Levi would imagine stars looked like if you stole it from the sky and held it in your hands.

Those jewel-like eyes widened when they met Levi’s, which made his already large doe eyes seemed comical. They took a half step back, mouth agape, hands halted in the air as if torn between reaching out and pushing away. They look startled and perplexed, like a spooked animal. Levi belatedly realized that the flowers and verdant greens that appeared around the kid weren’t a figment of his concussion-induced hallucination.

A garden.

A wholeass goddess-damned garden. In the middle of this suffocating, gloomy turd of a city. Hell, was he even in the Underground anymore? Can someone fell and landed above? Or maybe he _did_ die and this was what afterlife looked like.

The kid shook his head violently, like a shaggy dog shaking away mud. Those eyes hardened with resolve, a single-minded focus in his gaze.

“Hold on, okay? I’m going to carry you to my place. I can treat that wound for you!”

The next thing he knew, the boy- girl–? _person_ scooped their arms underneath him, breathed out a quick ‘sorry’ before heaving him up into a bridal carry. Levi cried out in pain, and the person shushed him gently like his mother used to do when he cried from smacking his head against the moving door. He –or she?– would probably be around his own age, not even all that tall, but carried Levi with so much ease. He wondered if he weighed anything at all to the kid.

Levi became very much aware of how close he got to the kid’s face now, his cheek smushed onto the kid’s shoulder as the kid carried him somewhere and he couldn’t do anything about it. Too weak and too bedazzled. The kid looked like a prime target for ransom or sold to human traffickers just from how pretty they were. Someone like them didn’t belong down here, least they got tainted and corrupted, or worse, broken and trampled.

It’s a proof that he was spending too much time in seedy bars and greasy, piss-smelling alleys that instead of saying something dignified, his mouth betrayed him by abandoning all brain-to-mouth filter with the grossest ( _the sincerest_ ):

“What’s an angel like you doing in a place like this?”

He felt the kid’s step falter, jewel eyes staring at him with utter befuddlement. They looked like they’ve been knocked in the head with a two-by-four. A halted gurgling sound came from their throat as if they're trying to hold back a bark of laughter, or maybe a bile from how ridiculously greasy the unintentional pickup like was. But they shook their head and continued on their march, muttering something about concussion and blood loss. Levi let them assumed whatever they want, glad that he could be spared from the embarrassment.

He was wrong.

The boy –he confirmed himself as such when Levi faltered in addressing him– teased him about his pickup line after he got his bearings back, while shoving a foul-smelling bottle of liquid that tasted as shitty as its smelled down Levi’s throat, pinching his nose to prevent him from spitting it back right to the boy’s face. But as the boy claimed, it did numb down the pain as the boy began pulling out the bullet shards with clean tweezers, then cleaned off the dripping blood and stitched close the hole on his shoulder.

Levi belatedly realized, with an inkling of chagrin, that he had lost one of his shoes. The left one, on which his ankle was apparently sprained. Lightly. Nothing serious, the boy-doctor said, as he massaged the ankle with a warm-smelling oil, it’ll take three days to fully heal but he can still walk with only the slightest limp. But that’s not what Levi was upset about. His shoes might be shitty, but it’s _his_. And he doesn’t appreciate the boy teasing his loss.

Levi, being himself, in his attempt to dredge the last bits of dignity left, cursed and threatened the boy with bodily harm on every step. He knew it’s not wise to antagonize the person who just saved his life, but the wicked curve of his strange needle and the solution he used to treat Levi’s wounds sting like a bitch, and he doesn’t trust the boy to not poison him by accident.

The boy remained unamused, only focused on diligently stitching Levi’s skin together.

“I can stop if you want. That is, if you want to either bleed to death or succumb to infections. Both are a slow death, you sure you want to die like a prideful moron when there’s me, a _doctor_ , who knows what I’m doing?”

Levi turned it down a notch, resorting to grumbles and growls.

The stitches turned out perfectly neat, the angry red gash didn't drool ugly green puss or swelling rotting purple like Levi had seen on a dying lowlife left to wither and forgotten in a dark alley. The boy cleaned and bandaged Levi’s scrapes and cuts, and applied a cool salve that smells of ice on his sore bruises. The stings and soreness elevated a few seconds after using the salve. The boy gave Levi another concoction that tasted a notch better than the numbing potion, and his pounding headache disappeared under half a minute. That’s when Levi believed this boy really is a certified doctor.

“You got a name?”

The boy looked up towards the chair where Levi sat, watching the boy cleaned his shiny medical instruments on the other side of the table, wiping them with a clean cloth dipped in clear liquid that stings the nose with its sharp smell. His clothes, while simple and not worth any more than Levi’s own, were clean and flawless without a tear. He’s not any taller than Levi either, but he proved his strength already by carrying Levi like he weighed nothing.

Without the haze of concussion to blind his conscience, Levi couldn’t imagine how in Sina’s shiny crown the boy survived here. Just the way he looked was enough to warrant a robbing or ransom by Underground standards. His cheeks full –a sign of being well-fed. No telltale shine of grease in a single strand of his well-kept, short brown hair. Skin as flawless as a newborn’s with none of the pale sickly pallor of malnutrition and sunlight-deficiency people of Underground typically were. In fact, this brat is _tanned_ and _glowing_ , how the fuck–

“I recalled _you_ are the one who barged in unannounced into _my_ garden –thanks for that by the way, it took me months to grow that batch of flowers. So if anyone’s here deserves an introduction, it’s _me_.”

The brat had the gall to cheekily fold his arms on his chest, waiting for Levi to comply. Levi clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“Levi,” he grunted.

Satisfied, the boy nodded. He stood up and made his way to a long wooden counter full of plates and pots which Levi assumed to be the kitchen, dried herbs hanging above the area. Levi’s lips curled bitterly.

“Oi. You gotta tell me yours or not, brat?”

“You hungry?”

 _That_ shut Levi up for another good minute until the boy slid down a plate –the plate was shiny and clean unlike the ones in the seedy places Levi visited when he got enough money– that contained a slice of–

“Fuck. Is that a goddess-fucking-damned _cake?_ ”

Levi didn’t dare touch the cake, lest it was another hallucination, and the last potion the boy-doctor force him to chug down was some kind of mind-altering drug. Cake is a fucking luxury. Something people on the surface eat, and only those stuck-up, filthy rich pigs got to taste them. The cake smelled good, dear Maria, golden glazed crust warm and freshly baked, the dark blue of its insides put him off a bit, but it’s dripping some sweet-smelling juice that made his mouth water.

Who's this kid, really? Some kid of a merchant, or maybe one hell of a thief who robs merchants.

“It’s a pie. Blueberries,” A beat. The boy stared at him, he stared back. The boy huffed, “I swear I didn’t put poison in it. If I want to kill you, you would already be six feet under, and I’ll be shoveling dirt right now. You won’t make a good fertilizer anyway. What are you waiting for? Dig in.”

And dig in Levi did. The moment that sweet, blue juice touched his tongue, he devoured the entire cake – _pie_ whole.

The boy looked impressed. Or maybe disturbed. He told Levi to take it slow, sliding in another pie after he got Levi to swear he would. Perhaps the boy took pity on him, from the way Levi scarfed down five slices of pies under two minutes, that he offered Levi to stay for a while since he was about to start dinner.

First healing his wounds, and now giving him a free meal? Levi became wary. Maybe the boy knew who he was and expected favor in return. Or maybe he’s waiting for his cronies to come and take Levi away to be sold.

Neither of those things happened. The boy gave him one of his shirts for Levi to wear since his was completely ruined, along with a pair of old, but well-worn shoes, before sending him off with a bundle of leftover food they had for dinner (it was _heavenly_ ), two small clay bottles of medicines he told Levi to take in the morning, and Levi’s trusty knife. Cleaned.

He couldn't contain himself anymore. Levi blocked the door with his foot before the boy closed it completely. He kicked it away so it swung back open, the boy yelped and stumbled out in result. Levi glared down at the person he owes with the most terrifying look he could muster.

“What. The fuck. Do you want?”

The boy blinked up at him, the way they gleam shifted from lost to understanding. The green-blue jewels shimmered with flashes of emotions too fast for Levi to read. Those eyes met his fearlessly, his voice steady and unwavering.

“I’m just doing my job. I’m a doctor, it’s my job to help people, so you don’t owe me anything because I have obligation to save _any_ lives. Anyone with basic human decency would do it. I know it’s not commonplace _here_ ,” The boy looked less like a boy and more like a man the more words fell out of his mouth, he’s aging with the weight of whatever experience he’s been through.

“In this place, _death_ is commonplace, I _know_. And people don’t care as long as it doesn’t happen to them, but I genuinely want you to _live_.”

Levi was taken aback by the boy’s sincerity, it’s like he’s falling off the roof all over again. Scared and confused. Out of control.

“You don’t know me.”

“I don’t need to,” The boy shook his head. “You need my help, so I helped.”

It’s harder to breathe but also not. Levi felt like the air in his lungs was frozen, his spine tingling with tiny sparks of lightning that tickled him from his toes to his fingertips and muffled his eardrums, his vision cleared for the first time in years. It became unbearable to hold that gem-like gaze.

“Will you get any more troubles from the guys who shot you?”

“I’ll take care of them.”

The boy pointed to a road that would lead him to a stairway back to the upper level, where it’s populated and habited with people. But the rundown shack in the hidden corner of this abandoned part of the underground, where the boy with gem-like eyes and healing hands reside, was far warmer and the air is cleaner. It smelled like life down here. Levi was reluctant to go, but the boy already closed his door.

Halfway through climbing the stairs, Levi fought the urge to smash his head against the wall for his slip of focus.

He didn’t get the boy’s name.

That wouldn’t do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FAYE used PIE. It's super effective!  
> LEVI activates ACKERMAN IMPRINTING! FAYE is exasperated!
> 
> nobody would believe you if you said Keith Shadis was the one who named the abberant titan a pretty name like 'crystal' and popularized it. nobody. even Hanji would laugh at you. Faye might believe you though.
> 
> I'm sorry for any grammatical mistakes or typos or if the wording sounds weird! Thank you for reading ^_^  
> also, Levi and Future!Eren/Faye are respectively 14 and 12 (based on his own count from the day he’s reborn). Levi is not crushing on twelve y/o, he's just getting the 'i like this person better than anyone else and i wanna get to know them better and grow close to them' feeling.


	3. What's in a Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story of how Levi fought and toiled for a name, made friends, and established a code. Meanwhile, Faye went off on a shenanigan to save princesses while wrestling with his personality imbalance. We all just wanted to find ourselves, in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… chapter 112 is something, huh. :,)
> 
> The reason why this chapter took so long was because… I’ve gone overboard. Sorry lol. I tried to make the relationship progress as natural as I could, knowing their personalities. I hope you enjoy this long ass chapter as I wrote down the ACWNR chapter <3
> 
> For Faye's appearance from 829-831 he look like Kid!Eren pre-Shinganshina breach, 832-834 he looks like 15 y/o Anime Eren with slightly longer hair, and gets longer as he reach 19 y/o and he just never cut it too short. 842 is long-haired Eren from the latest chapter in the manga (no moustache or beard don't worry! Levi won't let him look unkempt!). Levi is... Levi. The ACWNR Levi. 829 Kid!Levi looks like how he appears in the Red Swan OP.

** 829 **

The next day, Levi woke up early in the morning to hunt for pests.

He quickly located and dispatched the offending thugs who wanted him dead yesterday and reduced them to pathetic, squealing pigs under his mercy.

After he made the trigger-happy bastard swore on his shriveled balls to mind his own business, Levi sprinted down to the lower level.

Now that there’s a bit of sunlight peeking from unknown crevices above, Levi could see clearly that the lower slums were more rundown and filthy than the upper part, if that’s even possible. Like a decaying corpse under a heap of trash. The disgust crawled all over his skin with an overwhelming itch he could never scratch off.

Compared to the shack where the boy lived, the shack was in better condition. Still. Just a small, well-hidden shack, in the corner of a human’s blind spot where people who didn’t know what they’re looking for couldn't find it. There’s crack on the ceiling that streamed down sunlight into the area, which explained how the plants managed to grow, especially with someone who obviously knew what he’s doing, helped them thrive.

The boy was surprised to see him again.

“What the-- _Why_ are you back?” The boy demanded, hands on his hips. Wearing the brick-red cotton cardigan again, he smelled of freshly-turned earth and cool drizzling water, Levi suppressed the urge to smell his own armpits out of an alien feeling of self-consciousness that rose within him. “I told you, you don’t owe me anything.”

“I don’t. But you owe me a name, brat.”

He bristled, like an aggravated feral dog, “No I don’t! And don’t call me a brat, you brat!”

Levi made a half-assed excuse with his new blooming bruises and lied about how he accidentally got his medicine bottles shattered. It was shattered in the fight this morning, the asshole responsible received a nasty roundhouse and gutted like a fish by yours truly.

“You’re a doctor, ain’t ya? Isn’t it your job to save _any_ lives? You gonna turn away a poor, injured boy?”

As if jolted from a creeping doze, the boy was drained off of the spitfire energy he radiated like the sun, composing into a politely distant disposition, sterile of any dramatic emotional expressions. It sent Levi a subtle, regretful feeling of loss. Nonetheless, the boy-doctor begrudgingly treated him once again, grumbling about dumb reckless assholes, and he threw a few choices of words over the loosening stitches on Levi’s wound, which was oozing blood and showing a tell-tale of angry swelling. Even Levi was surprised; he didn’t notice the annoying tingling pain until the boy opened the bandage wrappings.

The boy growled low, his face developed a reoccurring twitch at the sight of strain on his once-neat needlework, but it still schooled in a placid facade. “What in the three Walls did you do after I send you off yesterday? I told you to take it easy, bullet wounds don’t heal overnight. And just because I told you the ankle sprain is minor, doesn’t mean you can go around gallivanting and picking fights!”

“I told you,” Levi masked his pained hiss with a huff when the boy began unraveling the blood-sticky bandage off his stinging skin. “I’ll take care of the bastards who wanted me dead.”

“Well, _did_ you?”

“If I look as bad as I am now, you should see the other guy.”

The boy gave Levi three freshly-baked, bread buns glazed with melted butter that’s far better cry from the hard plank he usually chewed on. Levi stuffed one into his mouth just at the right moment when the boy poured a cool, sharp-smelling liquid to his angry swelling stitches. His scream was muffled by the bun.

The swelling subsided and his blood stopped oozing, but the stitches had to be redone.

Levi still didn’t get a name.

He found out the boy lives alone, no parents to speak of. The boy claimed that he ran away from home, with a carefully blank face and a light shrug, said he crossed some borders and whatnot. Levi was sure the boy meant he ‘crossed a _line’_ with his family, but he’s not sure either. Well, Levi ain’t gonna judge other people’s problem.

As if the burst of open expression of emotions were merely an illusion, the boy didn’t present any extreme reaction to Levi making himself a bother, refusing to leave. He simply let Levi hovered around him, just as long as he didn’t touch anything. If the boy felt discomfort on having what essentially a homeless ruffian in his home, he didn’t show it. He became impassive as a rock. The boy tended to his garden diligently, and Levi felt a pang on his chest when he saw the trampled golden flowers that saved him from a being crippled.

“They’re just flowers,” the boy reassured him, shrugging. Nonchalant. Putting on a pair of gloves before dragging a shovel and an empty bucket into the middle of the garden, he started picking off snails from what seemed to be a young tomato bush. “I can grow them again.”

“I ain’t ever seen flowers before,” Levi brushed his hands through the decaying yellow petal he crushed with his weight yesterday. They must’ve been beautiful before he became their untimely demise, “And the first thing I did when finding one is killing it.”

He found out that the name of the flower is _goldenrod_.

They’re tall and bright, grasping for the dancing sunlight, adoringly, greedily. Levi felt bad for literally trampling their effort in growing to freedom. He understood that feeling.

Sensing Levi’s itchy, twitching urge to enter the garden, the boy was on him like a vulture smelling carcass. The boy wouldn’t let him stand idly. He forced (he actually asked politely, but Levi felt like it’s something he should do _at least_ to elevate the persistent feeling of ungratefulness) Levi to muck in the mud with him, much to his disgust, to pull out weird fat roots and some thorny weeds with yellow blooms, collecting them in separate basket.

He encountered numbers of ugly, writhing, slimy worms more than he ever wanted to in his life. The boy suggested him to stop whining like a little bitch, keep pulling those roots and to put his back into it. He wouldn’t let Levi smite the worms, claimed that they were beneficial to his garden, keeping the earth fat and airy. The roots he pulled turned out to be something close to potatoes, but sweeter. The boy baked them for their lunch, scooped and mashed the insides until it's soft, then stuffed it back with baked beans and chopped tomatoes, and more of those buttered bread on the side.

The shack was clean, Levi realized, with hidden glee blooming in his chest. The inside smelled like herbs and flowers, not a layer of dust on any surface of the shack. The boy began to clean the small living space, tying pieces of cloth to protect his hair and mouth from the dust. Levi was more than happy to help dust and sweep and mop the whole place from top to bottom, the boy let him when he offered; passing him two pieces of cloth and a broom. Levi is pleased to find that the boy had a vigorous, meticulous energy that matched his.

Levi watched as the boy spent the rest of the day trimming and tying plants to be hung to dry, grinding herbs to powder, concocting colorful and dreadful-smelling potions, and stored them in earthen jars and clean vials, neatly placed on a tall cabinet. He wouldn’t let Levi help him with that task, guarding them jealously, batting away Levi’s attempt to help him pour the concoction into bottles.

“Please do not help me unless I asked,” dictated the boy. He didn’t realize it then, but that became the first rule Levi had to abide by in order to maintain harmony with the doctor. 

The water they got was clear, Levi even dared to drink them straight from the bucket. He doesn’t know where the boy got them from, he used them not only to drink but also to wash and bathe.

 _Bathe_. Oh, sweet Sina, he nearly snapped the broom in half when he was led to a clean space, separate from the shack. A shed where there’s a large drum full of clean water –filtered underground water, the boy explained like it’s _not a big deal._ A towel, a bar of sweet-smelling soap, and a small scrub were shoved into his hands, and he was welcome to bathe himself while the other boy prepared dinner. When he got out, skin red but squeaky clean, and heart full, there’s a set of clean clothes waiting for him. He never felt so happy and clean, and he smelled like flowers. He never saw flowers before, and now he got to see a ton of them just looking out from the window.

The thorny weeds of yellow bloom Levi collected were made into delicious, thick, creamy green soup. Dandelion soup, the boy had told him, the weed could be made into a salad too. The soup was steaming white, Levi had to blow a spoonful for a whole minute before he can taste it without burning his tongue. The boy silently passed him a roll of bread to dip into the soup and scrape off the remaining residue.

When the crevices no longer cast forth sunlight, Levi climbed up the stairs back to civilization, and he wondered if he dreamed the whole thing.

The next day, the boy wasn’t home.

Levi went on a frenzied manhunt, momentarily forgetting that he came here with a broken nose. He’s running around the unfamiliar ghost town, trekking through ruins and rundown structures, for any sign of the boy-doctor. Levi couldn't call out his name. He hadn't gotten one to call after. What answer could a ghost town offer to an empty call?

He found the boy at the edge of town, where all signs of man-made structures ceased. Far beyond it, the stalactites and stalagmites were near touching or completely fused together, and the earth started closing in, caging into small caves. Unfinished digging that had been abandoned for decades. Series of ant’s nest-like labyrinths leading to nowhere but soil, if you wished to rot deep into the grooves of the earth. Dead ends.

Hunched over a leather-bound journal, the boy wrote on with heated frustration and muttering incessantly as he made his way back to the edge of the slums.

Levi pivoted around the corner to slide down against a wall, temporarily uncaring of what and how many kinds of filth his back accumulated from doing so. He needed to breathe, he needed to control his throat, he wiped his damp brows. He couldn’t show weakness. Levi took a few handfuls, fortifying gulps to muffle his racing heart. Before standing back up, expression schooled. He waited until the footsteps are only a second away from passing his alley, then–

“The _hell_ you’ve been?” Levi rounded at him from behind the corner.

It turned out to be another bad decision, because the next thing he knew, Levi was staring at a piece of brick on the wall, face scraping painfully against the ground, and his arms bent awkward, pinned onto his back. His head throbbed and the drying blood from his nose melting out again. He couldn’t move, lest he dislocated his shoulder in his struggle. The person pinning him to the ground was strong, stronger than people twice Levi’s size he had ever defeated--

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fucking goddess I’m so sorry I’m so sorry! Holy shit,” the perpetrator quickly released Levi from his inhuman strength, jumping back, skittish as he let Levi dazedly, stumbled back onto his feet. “I’m so sorry, I- I thought-- ” The boy blinked rapidly, realizing who is it he just assaulted. His apologetic expression turned mildly inconvenienced.

“The _hell_ you doing?” the boy hissed, echoing Levi. Smacking Levi’s shoulder with his book. “Don’t scare innocent people out of nowhere. _Why_ are you back?”

“I still didn’t get your name,” Levi said, sounding unfazed unlike how burningly bamboozled he was inside; instead of questioning the boy’s lightning-fast reflexes and the knee-jerk reaction to being startled was immobilizing people –that’s normal here, Levi reasoned to himself. He pointed at his bleeding nose, “You ain’t in your shack. I’m dying from blood loss here.”

“Don’t be dramatic, that’s just a broken nos– wait, how long you’ve been leaving it like that?”

Levi got his nose set back properly on the spot.

When he presented a roll of thick cash he pilfered to the boy, he wasn’t impressed. There’s no glint of greed when the smell of money and clinking of coins was served in front of his eyes --if anything, the boy almost looked offended.

“I have no need for money. Everything I need I can make it here,” the boy turned away, back to sorting his medicine and tools. “Keep it. You don’t owe me anything.”

Levi still didn’t get the boy’s name. Levi tried intimidating him, threatening, and even resorting to bribes (Levi ended up keeping the money). The boy wouldn’t budge, if anything, he’d gotten more rigid the more Levi pressed. The boy shooed him away when the night falls.

This continued on for months, sometimes he knocked at the door but the shack was empty, other times he would be home to answer Levi’s insistent knocking. Every trinkets and valuables Levi brought were turned away. The boy kept him at an arms-length, subtly trying to push Levi away with his indifference, but didn’t turn him away because Levi always visited with scrapes and cuts to show.

The boy remained a complete mystery. Held his cards close, and stingy with his words. He treated Levi with distant cordiality, and Levi took advantage of that sentimental part of the boy who felt responsible for anything he took care of, to stay as long as possible in the shack. So what if he forgot to dodge a few punches and scraped his joints? So what if he robbed more than he should just to bring something the boy would accept (he never did)? Well, alright, he was fooling himself. It's _really_ fuckin ridiculous.

Levi knew when he's not wanted; he should’ve gone on with his life, put the thought of the boy-doctor and his garden far behind his mind. He didn’t know why he put so much effort to know the brat. To burn his presence into the life of someone else. Levi hates owing favors, and the boy already gave him a way out on day one, but he never booked it. Levi knew the danger of forming attachments in this cutthroat living. In the Underground, if you got something to lose, you’re bound to die for it.

Levi came back down anyway. It’s worth feeling the sun beaming down on his skin, drink up greedily the air and water relievingly clean. It’s worth brushing fingers through the petals and the leaves. It’s worth the warm home-cooked meal. It’s worth the most decent human interaction he ever had that didn’t involve violence.

As cheesy as it sounded, Levi believed that the eyes are the window to the soul, and a name was a key to own a person. Well, not quite ‘own’, but more like… along the lines of… that person became _important_ to you. Levi gave the boy his name; to make this even, Levi needed to know the other’s name.

“It’s just a fucking name, for Sina’s sake! I told you mine!”

“Names have power, you know?” The boy’s voice distant, although they were only an arm's reach away from each other. Levi wanted to close the distance, to smack the boy upside the head and shake him something violent 'cause _of course he knows_ , that’s why he’s been coming down here this whole time!

The boy was sculpting bowls and bottles on a spinning flat surface. Right now, he's making his fourth cup. He had Levi fetch the clay this morning from a filthy, worm-infested, muddy hole on the far side of the garden.

He continued, “I... don’t want to tell anyone. Because then, I have to own up to it.”

Levi clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Quit bein’ a cryptic shit, a name is a name. There’s nothin’ to it,” he lied, but wouldn’t let it show. “What, you want me to call you brat forever? Or Flower Boy?”

“Oh? I thought I was _Angel_?” A jaunty smile played on the boy’s lips, chin jutting. Harvesting pleasure from Levi’s mortification. But this was the first for a long time Levi saw a smidge of emotion from the boy, let alone a smile. “Pretty sure you called me one.”

“That was just concussion talking. I know now that you’re just a nagging, worm-loving hermit.”

He got a face full of wet mud for his troubles. They chased after each other for an hour, Levi yelling curses, shovel-waving, while the other boy kept throwing mud at him on the lead, dashing around the garden. They cleaned themselves before lunch.

He was told if he wanted to keep visiting, he had to drink the most disgusting liquid that looked and smelled as repugnant as it tasted. It’s like drinking a rat’s innards mixed with horse shit and it burns as it goes down; basically what a titan’s piss would taste like. But Levi stared the boy down and chugged the entire thing dry, not once breaking eye contact.

The boy was impressed. He gave Levi another potion, orange in color –that tasted marginally better.

Levi had to guzzle down both potions every time he visits.

.

** 830 **

****

Levi was still working on getting a name, but he learned a few things; puzzle pieces Levi hoard obsessively to make sense of contradicting image the boy presented.

Despite his upbringing, Levi lives by a code he established for himself. For every man has to live by a code, as Kenny pounded the lesson into his skull. In order to live as a human, one must abide by a code to live by, to direct how we wanted our life to be, to serve as the pillar to shape a person, to help us _choose_. Levi was young when he was thrown into the life he was forced to live; no mother, not a penny to his name, only a knife given by a psychopath of a mentor.

The young often didn’t get to make their own choices. A life code served as a way he's able to choose in such limited options this life provides him –at least with his own code, his own rules, the options were presented by his own terms. Levi still working on his code, but so far he managed a simple few guidelines: keep himself and his surroundings clean and tidy, only keep things he can’t live without, own up to his words, and take no shit from anyone. He could bend them to whatever he desired it to be, but he'd rather die before he breaks them. They're the framework for his Code. Until he could establish it, _then_ that code became the only rule he wouldn’t break nor bend.

And this boy-doctor also lives by a few. Guidelines that contradict themselves

One. He’d do things his own way and doesn’t appreciate help unless asked.

If Levi ever thought the boy to be weak and naïve of how life worked in the Underground because he always so sheltered in his hidden abode, that thought met a swift death when one day, filthy muggers managed to stumble into the hidden abode. Levi didn’t know until he went down to visit and saw the door hanging on one hinge, clearly broken down, and sounds of loud scuffling were heard from within.

He ran faster than he ever did in his life towards the shack, only to be forced to roll and duck away as a body of a full-grown man was thrown flying from the shack. The boy was mopping the floor with the rest of the muggers, fighting less like a desperate victim and more like an experienced killer. He moved as lethal as Kenny and didn’t even need a knife.

The boy ducked from a swipe of a punch, grabbing a shovel to block another one. He kept blocking and dodging, or throwing bodies, never going lethal-- one of the men seized him from the back, bounded his arms immobile. Levi never quite registered fully how tiny, how young the boy was until he saw him dangling away from the ground, within the constricting hold of a filthy, smelly asshole.

Levi was about to lunge for it, knife twirling in hand, but the boy beat him to it.

He kicked the bastard’s kneecap so hard, the man went down with a howl and crunch of bones. The boy recovered quick, rolling forward, taking back his shovel and spun back to face the man with vengeance. Ruthlessly, the boy drove the shovel’s sharp head down the downed man’s nape, red bursts forth, splattering across the floor. Levi would definitely bitch about mopping it off the wood later.

Levi lunged and snapped the neck of a bastard who tried to knife the boy-doctor from the side. The boy only spared him a glance, pulling off his shovel off the half-decapitated body before shooting off in a blur to spear another man’s gut with the blunt end of the handle. Levi caught a glimpse of the boy driving his knee up to meet the man’s nose. Sickening, satisfying _crunch_.

Levi busied himself with roundhouse kicking one big, slow lug that towers over him. Before throwing a punch to the man the boy presently defending against. The boy looked offended as the man stumbled back with a cry.

“Do not interfere,” he warned, eyes a burning green and teeth bared like a threatened beast. He knocked out the man with a swift overhead swing to the head with the flat of his shovel. “ _I had him_.”

“Of course you did,” Levi relented. He didn’t interrupt the other boy’s fight anymore. Nor ever again. He respected the boy’s wish to finish his own battles.

They made quick work on the rest of them. The survivors flee with a stumbling, jerky run, some dragging the unconscious ones with them, screaming in terror. Fuckin served them right, for entering the wrong damned house. But there's two dead on the floor both Levi and the boy always kept spotless.

The boy raised his gaze from the bleeding corpses. He gave Levi a tired, worn-out look as adrenaline finally caught up with him. The look of someone who drained their energy finishing a harrowing, empty task. Dead man’s blood dripping from his chin, drenching his neck and tainting his white shirt. The boy pointedly avoided casting another glance at the bodies beneath him, he kept his breathing steady and posture firm.

Blood started to stain the wood, there are broken jars, a window, and a door to be fixed. Two corpses to be buried. The boy frowned.

Levi waited.

“Will you help me clean this up?”

“Where’s the mop, Flower Boy?”

They stripped the corpses off their clothes, separating the stained from the salvageable ones, looting for weapons (Levi neatly lined up his four new knives) and valuables Levi later exchanged for coins or goods in the upper level (Flower Boy won’t let Levi sold off the old pocket watch, keeping it to himself). Then, Flower Boy dug a wide, deep hole on an empty part of the garden, while Levi dragged the body down.

“Do you feel remorse?” asked Levi, as he threw the last body down the hollow earth. His question held neither accusation nor disgust, as light as idly asking the weather. “You, a doctor, just killed people.”

“People?” The boy yanked out his shovel from the ground and began scooping soil. “What I just killed are animals. Driven by instinct to dominate and ravage. My action was merely an answer to their call of challenge; _survive_. The moment they raise their blade to kill, they’re not human in my eyes. A savage beast must be put down so we may live on.”

“Live on,” Levi echoed, recalling the boy’s words after he heals the bullet wound.

He nodded his assent, dabbing off sweat. “And move forward. If we can’t move forward, the lives we took will mean nothing. We face the consequences no matter what form it takes.”

“They’re lowlife bandits.”

“So are you. If you attacked me for something I own, like them, I wouldn’t hesitate to bury you either.”

The boy threw the first soil into the hole. Levi grabbed another shovel and began refilling the earth.

Levi was taught how to plant seeds properly on the new patch of soil. The seeds would later burst forth from the earth in a form of tall flowers that blooms and clump together, forming a cone shape reminiscent of a sheathed sword.

 _Gladiolus_ , Flower Boy told him. Levi grew to like them so much (he wouldn’t admit it though), that he’s usually the one who showered them with water. Flower Boy never stepped on or over the patch. He wouldn’t allow Levi to do so either, always reminding him to go around it.

That’s the second. His priority would always be preserving life, but he had no qualms on ending some if necessary. In return, he would always respect the dead.

Levi felt it again. That lightning which tickled his spine. It muffled his eardrums, his heart thrumming against them. So, they go around the _grave_ , they tended to the flowers, they never speak ill of the buried. Levi started capturing the bugs that got inside the shack and release them outside, instead of outright squashing them. He doesn’t comment whenever Flower Boy spoke to his plants. They’re alive, therefore Flower Boy would preserve and cherish them, even after they rot, Flower Boy will make use of them as fertilizers. Their deaths were never forgotten or dismissed.

That incident shattered a big chunk of the wall Flower Boy tried to build. You can’t kill people and buried their corpses together as fertilizer without ended up getting along.

.

** 831 **

Levi had always been fascinated by the books scattered around the shack. Flower Boy collected books, from wherever the hell he got it from, Levi doesn’t know. But he knew it had something to do with the random disappearances. It’s not quite as noticeable before, but now Levi began to see patterns; from which he first caught Flower Boy coming back from the deeper part of lower level slums two years ago.

Flower Boy never went upstairs, but it seemed like he liked going around in the abandoned slums, exploring to the farthest part of the city. Scavenging for scrapheaps, Levi could understand, but books? In this downtrodden city where three-quarters of its citizens were illiterate? Very unlikely. But Levi never said a word. The other never asked Levi how’s the brawling and heist gigs been going? Good? Nah, the teen ain’t the type to nose around other people’s business either, unless that person stuck their noses into _his_ business. Over the course of their interaction, he learned that Flower Boy ain't the kind of person you'd ever want to provoke into aggression. One, Flower Boy was freakishly strong; two, he’s as cunning as a damn raccoon; and three, he’s a doctor. Which means, he could be creative with his sharp, pointy, fancy medical instruments, while keeping you alive enough to drag it out as long as he wanted to.

So. Back to books.

He didn’t dare open a single one. Nor did he show his fascination. If he brushed his hand through their spine whenever he dusted the shelves and stared at the colorful covers for too long, only the goddesses can judge him.

But Flower Boy, being the observant little shit he is, caught on quick.

He caught Levi red-handed, fluttering open the pages of the book with intense concentration, as if it could help him unravel the mysteries the intelligible words possess. Levi glanced up to find Flower Boy already staring at him, sitting behind the dinner table with a compass, a ruler, and papers scattered across it. Full of strange diagrams and overlapping lines so intricate, Levi can feel a migraine coming just by looking at it.

A blot of ink fell from the feather quill in his hold, tainting whatever notes he had written upon a leather-bound journal in his other hand. Flower Boy yelped, frantically dabbing tainted paper with another paper. Levi seized this opportunity to put back the book into the shelves, speed walking out to the backyard. Praying the teen-doctor won’t bring it up anytime soon.

The next day, Levi wasn’t asked to go around harvesting seeds and bulbs or moving potted plants indoors to prepare for the approaching change of season –he had gotten used to the chore after two years.

Instead, Flower Boy sat by the part of the garden where white chrysanthemum blooming late, a blanket underneath him, the sun beamed down from the hole in the ceiling onto his being, as if gracing its favorite child with warmth and life. Wickedly, Flower Boy lured him with pomegranate scones and tea smelling like the white flowers beside him, and Levi, for once became as gullible as a sheep because it’s his doctor, he could trust the doctor not to harm him, had fallen right into the trap. Only after Levi took the first bite, he realized what the other teen was holding.

A book filled with words surrounding painted images laid open in his hand. The betrayal and indignation didn’t last long though. Flower Boy read aloud a bullcrap story of a benevolent lady, a hand-drawn image depicting said lady holding out an apple to an ugly monster-like creature Levi could imagine a titan would look like. The book was clearly well-loved, the yellowing pages smelled like wood and dried hay, the leather cover while worn, were gently cared for.

That’s when Levi learned the boy’s third guideline. Value knowledge, no matter what kind or whence it came from. But never take it at face value. Nothing is truly true.

Flower Boy snorted halfway through the book. “Actually. Not everything you’ll read is the truth. I personally think she’s a foolish girl that made deals with the devil.”

Levi blinked out of his trance. From his position lying on his side, head propped on his palm, half-chewing on his scone, he looked up from the book on Flower Boy’s lap to glare at him. “How the fuck did you come up with that conclusion? That ain’t got anything to do with the story!”

“Hm? How would you know?” Flower Boy shot back, one eyebrow raised in challenge. “I could be bullshitting the story to you this whole time and this book isn’t actually a fairytale, and you wouldn’t even know.”

And that’s how Levi started to learn how to read in three months.

Flower Boy bribed him with black tea _holy fuck actual tea leaves how did he–_ and rewarded him with any kind of food he craved for dinner if he managed to master the lesson of the day. He read Levi a tale of a woman who discovered the secret of life and crowned herself Queen, bringing wealth and prosperity for her people. When she died, she split her power, and her three daughters inherited her kingdom. With unimaginable, godly power in their hands, her people waged war throughout the land. A descendant of hers, out of shame and cowardice, abandoned the kingdom and left his people on the hand of his enemies, but taking many with him to seek refuge in an isolated land. To live out their lives in a false paradise. Levi would call himself a moron if the names of the Queen’s daughters didn’t ring any bells.

“Why are you using the goddesses’ names? I’m sure you ain’t the type to be religious.”

Flower Boy snorted. “I don’t pray to false goddesses,” Levi raised an eyebrow, but then again, he himself never put an ounce of his faith in the wall religion. Levi was the last person to give lectures about blasphemy and uncouth heathen behavior. “But I _do_ pray for the dead. For the millions of lives sacrificed to build the walls. I pray for their peace every day.”

Well. Levi could respect that. He can respect death.

“And we live on,” Levi murmured.

Flower Boy clearly heard him, because he smiles tender, wistful. “And onwards.”

The sun got too bright and hot all of a sudden, Levi chugged down his drink greedily. And changing the subject.

“So, the woman –the first Queen, she’s some kind of goddess or sumn?”

“Anyone can become a god _or_ a devil," he poured Levi’s empty mug another helping of fresh tangerine juice –one of the snacks for today; Levi brought cheese, so they have grilled cheese sandwiches to pair with the juice. “All it takes is for someone to claim it for it to be true.”

Speaking of goddesses and death, Flower Boy started another book in their next session. This particular one, Levi learned to read about the pantheons of ancient civilizations. Older than the walls, older than titans emergence. Back when more than three goddesses are known, there’s more. Levi’s interest piqued at the story of the god of the dead, who became so smitten with the goddess of flowers, he kidnapped her to his kingdom within the earth. Flower Boy said the story varied, depending on which version you read, but the end is indisputable. The goddess of spring married the death god, she brought the fruit of their love above ground to give birth to spring and when she returned to her husband, winter razed the surface. Underworld was warm with her in it.

Flower Boy explained that some version depicted the goddess to be the helpless victim, raped by the death god and forced to return underground when the year’s coming to an end. But the other version depicted the goddess to willingly choose to stay, knowing with marrying the death god, she would be independent from her overbearing mother and become Queen. And like all living things shall end, she would always return beneath the earth. Levi preferred the second version. He preferred for the goddess to actually choose the path she had taken.

The alphabet letters and words were drilled first until Levi couldn’t possibly forget them even if he knocked his head into amnesia, before he was assigned to read literature. The books Flower Boy taught him to read aren’t just fairy tales or myths, sometimes it’s a book about the history of the world before titan terrorize humankind, sometimes it’s one of those medical books that gives Levi a hard time and one hell of a headache, and sometimes it’s cookbooks or gardening books.

Levi was praised for his quick learning and good memory. He had never been praised for his capability to learn before, not even when he was under Kenny’s tutelage. Flower Boy looked happy, and dared he say it, _proud_. It’s stupid, the boy was two years younger than him, Levi should feel mortified, but he’s not. The look on that face; it sent lightning bolts through Levi’s skin and lit up his head like a hearth, his face warmed. He put more effort into his studies.

On the third month of their lesson, Flower Boy deemed him well-read enough, told him to pick one book and read it to him in their next picnic session without guidance. A test of proficiency, if you will.

Flower Boy muffled a snicker into his tea when he caught the title of the book. Levi quickly learned why. He read the story of some overworked, clean-freak housemaid full of narcissistic bourgeois women who are actually said housemaid step-family. Of convenient magical intervention and instant wardrobe, some fancy-ass ball, and cliché love-at-first-sight. But the most annoying is the fuckin slipper.

“Stupid-ass bitch,” Levi muttered to the pages with contempt and embarrassment, while Flower Boy vainly tried to hide his grin behind his cup. “Pick that unpractical-as-fuck glass slipper up, it’s fuckin worth a fortune.”

“Yes,” Flower Boy gasped, suppressing his breath from bursting into snickers. “Unlike your old, smelly, rotting shoes. Did you actually ever found the left one?”

Levi chucked the book at Flower Boy’s head, who gave up holding back and start guffawing, rolling on the grass and babbling something about the hyphenation of Levi’s name with the protagonist’s from the book.

Levi stopped and watched, enjoying the burst of the impassive mask. Laughter looked good on the doctor.

Then, he was forced (asked, coerced, whatever) to learn how to write. Flower Boy nagged him about his penmanship a lot; he made sure Levi can write in perfect cursive before he could get any more desserts for months to come. Not that Levi favored sweets, but he had grown to enjoy the apple tarts and blueberry pies and like hell he'd be deprived of those luxuries.

“Why the fuck do I need to learn how to write this fancy-ass writing? I ain’t gonna be writing to some stuck-up, Royal asses, anyway!”

Flower Boy’s smile was very peculiar as he sipped his wild carrot tea, whilst reading his leather-bound journal on the other hand. Levi ought to run away that day, really. “Who knows.”

It was also a moment when clarity struck him; he figured out what sort of things he can bring back and accepted by the doctor.

The next visit, Levi set down a bottle of ink. Flower Boy blinked slow, then, before he could say anything, Levi interrupted.

“It ain’t a payment,” he held a palm up, effectively shutting Flower Boy’s mouth. “It’s a gift. Not outta gratitude, but because I know it’s a pain in the ass to get, and you like writing. _Don’t_ ask how I got this one.”

He admitted, internally, that he’s taking advantage of Flower Boy’s intrinsic sense of gratitude and respectful manners. People like him wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ , turn away _gifts_. The boy accepted the bottled ink with hesitant grace, thanking Levi for his considerate intentions.

The next gift Levi brought is a fountain pen with a red leather handle, and a sack of eggs. Flower Boy stared at them for a long time.

“A gift,” said Levi, smirking. “You runnin’ outta feathers, ain’t ya? Eggs make cooking easier too.”

The boy couldn’t turn away gifts. He started writing with the gifted pen.

That annoying, itching feeling of ungratefulness abated. Levi was satisfied. He could pay his debts; he could pay his respects to those healing hands, in ways they both can accept. Levi started bringing more gifts, gifts that had functional value instead of mere materialistic one, gifts he and the boy could use. Tools, yarns, cooking ingredients... The boy is practical, pragmatic. He cared not for wealth, but he valued practicality. He's not the type to let things he could use go to waste, and he couldn't turn away genuine gesture of kindness.

.

** 832 **

The day he learned the boy’s fourth guideline was on one sunny day.

All of a sudden, Levi became aware of how much he became _important_ , on one particularly sunny day.

For three years, he kept on calling the boy as Flower Boy (and Worm Hermit, when he’s on a particularly foul mood that day, which made the boy scowl every time Levi called him that. He called Levi _Cinder-Levi_ in retaliation). And, Levi made a habit of smuggling Flower Boy’s clothes for himself to wear.

Flower Boy was clearly trying to get back at him by stealing Levi’s, but they came back to Levi clean, tear and holes are sewn and patched closed neatly, smelling of a gentle, fresh flower. Whatever Flower Boy had done to them, the coarse fabric became smooth and downy as a feather. Levi couldn’t stop burying his face in them.

Levi saw a glimpse of horror and defeat in Flower boy’s face when he took that as a sign that he could start sleeping over, because hey, his clothes were there. How convenient.

From there, he learned why the doctor always ushered him away when the sun goes down. The teen became sluggish and tired without sunlight, keeping a lantern close by at night, placing his mattress strategically so when morning comes, he will rise with the sunlight coming from the window.

It was a particularly sunny day when it happened.

Flower Boy dragged Levi to help him hang the cool, wet laundries. He erected seven wooden poles to hang the laundry with a rope, but apparently, Flower Boy had been procrastinating with the chore for a month, so Levi brought two more to hang the rest of the laundries with. Levi learned to love the gourd full of thick, creamy liquid that softened a fabric. The very magic that turns his coarse clothes into silk. The doctor made them from an infusion of nuts and a batch of flowers he called Hydrangea.

“Faye.” Flower Boy grumbled on that sunny day, almost escaped Levi’s ears as it passed between the fluttering sounds of wind against the hanging blanket. “Call me Faye.”

The bo-- _Faye_ look away quickly, busying himself with throwing another wet laundry onto the rope, barricading himself with a thin sheet. Even the motion gave the impression of a huffy admittance of defeat.

Levi was stunned for a moment.

He got a name.

 _No_. Levi realized, scowling. _It’s not_.

“Do you _want_ to be called Faye?”

Movements behind the thin sheet halted completely, Levi could see the silhouette stiffened to stone.

Levi recognized bullshit when he saw one. How the words were spoken, the abrupt timing, the almost careless way it was given, as if the boy didn’t put off years hiding his name from Levi. Call it gut feeling, but he could feel the _wrongness_ from the name. The boy doesn’t claim it his. It sounded unfamiliar even to the boy’s own tongue, like improvisation in a piece of a guitar strum. The player forgot how the next rhythm goes, so he replaced it with something that worked. It’s good, it worked, but it’s not _genuine_.

Levi wouldn’t let his effort be paid with dirt. _He won’t take shit from anyone._

But… Levi understands the importance of a name. It did hold weight, it held power. And, he’s not being completely truthful either. Levi had his own reasons not to give anyone his _full_ name. Secrets are kept to not only protect oneself but also others. Especially now, when both of them chose to present themselves vulnerable to each other. They became important to one another. They will need each other. Such are the consequences of friendship.

He recalled three years ago; before they went on impromptu mud war, the boy doesn’t want to share his name, because he was afraid he couldn’t own up to it. Whatever ‘own up’ meant –whether it meant the name held significance that demanded expectations, or that he couldn’t quite integrated to the name he chose. The fact that he shared a name for Levi to call at all...

Fuck it. He’ll take it. But he’ll be sure to keep on maintaining their importance to each other _now_. Until a time came where they both could come clean.

“Is that the name you go by now?” Levi offered, a third option, a peace offering. “A name you _choose_ to go by?”

A gem-like eye peeked behind the cotton barricade, Levi still wondered how such colors exist in a mortal. If it’s truly a gem, Levi could buy his way up to the surface and got citizenship through the bribe money. However, the sheer gratefulness and wonderment in those eyes were worth _worlds_.

“Yes,” _Faye_ said. “It is.”

The barricade was blown away, fluttering in the wind, carrying the scent of Hydrangeas. Faye didn’t look away. He plopped down in front of Levi, taking a wet laundry from the wicker basket to unravel and prepared to clamp onto the line. It was Levi’s old jacket. The one he stole from the trigger-happy asshole, who shot him down to this garden.

That’s the fourth: Faye is careful with his words. Never tell lies, but the truth will be omitted. He let others interpret them as they see fit.

“Well shit, so _Flower Boy_ ain’t too far off, huh? Faye.”

“Levi. Do you wish to brush your teeth with this dirt? Because I will happily help you.”

Levi started sleeping over in the shack. Faye finally got tired of opening up doors or yelling from the garden to consent him in, he didn’t escort Levi out, he let him stay until late. Then the next thing Levi knew, he’s being ushered to change into comfortable clothes and left standing, looking down at Faye who curled up on one side facing the window. There’s enough space for him to sleep on the wide, soft mattress with elbow room to spare.

He learned that Faye hogged the blankets gradually through the night, but Faye complained Levi kicked him in his sleep. Really, how the fuck would Faye knew, when he slept like the dead.

He started coming back before sundown after every _errand_ to get food and cash in the upper levels, then waking up in the soft mattress he shared with Faye. He made _sure_ he came back before sundown, before Faye became weak and tired, Levi lit up lanterns in the house and slept on the side where Faye would get direct morning light. He’s like a flower that way, seemingly withering without the sun. So Levi’s question wasn’t off the hook; _what the hell is he doing in a place like this?_

After living together, all the barriers Faye had tried to build finally crumbled. Levi started seeing Faye laugh, yell, nag, curse, and even cry when something didn’t go the way he wanted it to be. Sometimes he would be animated, shooting his mouth off about the most absurd things. Sometimes he became morose out of nowhere, staring off into space and did his chores absent-mindedly. Sometimes he would speak formally, sometimes his vocabularies are just a combination of nouns and profanities.

One moment he was wise beyond his years, and the next he became a whiny brat. His behavior sprung and drops like a seesaw, as fickle as the season. It’s like he’s struggling to juggle different personalities and desperately grasping for a balance that wasn’t there.

Levi noticed that Faye would speak more respectfully to him despite his cheekiness, but mumbled in indistinguishable babble when left to his devices. So Levi tried to be around more often, tried to converse so Faye’s focus wouldn’t fly off and he’ll lose himself. Faye was less morose with a company to take his mind off whatever plaguing it. He will balance Faye until he found his ground.

He learned Faye was actually two years younger than him, so perhaps the mood imbalance was a product of typical teenage growth rite of passage. But any notion of using his age to his advantage was thrown out of the window because apparently, Faye's a rebellious, disrespectful brat who wouldn’t hesitate to talk back to him with his passive-aggressive, deceptively polite speech. And much to Levi’s eternal consternation, Faye's as stubborn as he and maybe more.

Levi preferred this Faye.

.

They slowly began to unravel and learn about each other.

Levi didn’t realize it then, but later, he would look back to this incident and _sees it_ : the driving force for the doctor’s life.

Faye was prone to nightmares, Levi found out. The kind of nightmares that gripped your lungs and tortured the mind, hounding your steps to the waking world. Faye jolted awake one night, with a blood-curdling scream that rung and lingered in the air like an afterimage, waking up Levi in a flurry of blankets and instinctively scrambling for the knife he hid between the wood of the floorboard under the bed. Faye did _not_ react kindly.

The other boy swiftly knocked Levi’s knife from his hand, catching it mid-air before tackling him to the ground. A sound of shattering like thunder crackling against the floor wood. Levi found himself pinned flat to the floor and gripping the wrists that are a hair-breath away from driving a knife through his skull.

“FAYE!” Levi yelled, arms trembling from trying to push away the knife in Faye’s grip. Faye’s eyes open but unseeing, unbidden desperation lighting up his eyes. “FAYE! FUCK, WAKE UP!”

Levi kneed Faye’s stomach with all his might, Faye rolled to the side with a grunt. Levi seized the opportunity to pin the wildly struggling Faye.

“Faye! Faye! Wake up! Wake up, you shitty brat! It’s just a dream!”

Faye’s breath hitched, as if breathing right for the first time. Tears melted to his cheeks. His eyes glistened in the dark as they look at Levi. A bit too bright, a bit too haunted. His breath came too short.

He looked at Levi, but he didn’t really see him. Faye choked up a sob, heart-wrenchingly miserable, as if he the very organ was ripped out of his ribcage.

“I’m sorry–” Faye whimpered, gulping harshly. “I’m so sorry, Sir– I never thought,” the flooding tears drenching his cheeks, his next intake of breath shook his entire being like an earthquake, with his heart as the epicenter. “It would end up like this –! I’m sorry!”

“Faye,” Levi tried again, softening his intonation. Tapping Faye’s cheek with his palm. “Wake up, it’s just a dream.”

Faye blinked. The fog clears from his eyes. He took another shuddering breath, his palms rose to press against his temples, fingers curling in his hair. His shirt clung to him, drenched in sweat. Levi moved away to let Faye sit up, gathering himself, bringing his knees to press onto his red eyes, shutting tightly.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked between wet coughs. “I- I shouldn’t hav-”

“Shouldn’t have what? Freaked out from a nightmare? It happens,” Levi breathed out, trying to sound flippant. “It ain’t your fault life’s shitty and fucks up your head.”

Faye laugh was dry and paused in-between when coughs interrupted. He wheezes out:

“Yeah, it’s shitty. Ah–”

Both noticed broken pieces of earthen jar behind Faye, spilling water and flowers it held all over the floor. So that’s what got shattered. Faye shakily picked up a stem of a star-petaled, ashen white flower he placed in the cabinets and by their bedside to ward off rats. His eyes overflowed again.

“Hey,” Levi carefully dislodges the flower from Faye’s trembling, white-nailed grip. Levi’s hand replaces the flower in Faye’s choking grasp. “Don’t touch that, you could’ve gotten hurt from the shards. Get back up to the mattress.”

Levi went to fetch a cup of water from the drum outside, he went past the tall stalks of ashen flower that blooms under the moonlight, thriving in their garden despite the chilled air; the harbinger of winter. He joined to the mattress after Faye finished the cup and placed it upside-down by the windowsill to dry, needing help because of his weakened state in the night. Levi drew the fallen blanket close, enfolding Faye’s trembling, clammy shoulder with it. “You gonna be okay?”

Faye rubbed his eyes dry, sniffed sharp and wet. “I will. Can you please get me a little red bottle from the cabinet?”

Levi quickly learned that Faye barely slept for more than three hours a day if he didn’t drink a clear substance that tasted of seeds, and smelled like little red flowers that makes him drowsy –what’s it called again? Poppies? Yeah, Poppy. When Levi asked to be taught how to make them, so that Faye didn’t have to do it alone, Faye refused.

“It’s addictive. If I drink too much and too often, I will become dependent on it. And too much dosage will result in death.”

Levi kept a sharper eye on the intakes Faye had whenever he pulled those particular earthen vials from the cabinet, on instances the nightmares become unbearable and he didn’t get enough rest. But most days, Faye would exchange the potion with flowery tea to combat his restlessness, its tiny white petals stuck to his teeth on occasion –which Levi always made fun of, but he also ended up liking the earthly bitter but fragrant tea and the flower it’s made of. Chamomile is smaller, less intimidating with its sunny yellow center, than the sharp ashen ones. He found that Faye slept better with someone beside him, so he did that.

Levi also found that he slept better holding onto something warm.

.

** 835 **

Levi honestly loved living with Faye in their (yes, it’s _theirs_ ) hidden abode, with all its flowers and sunlight and clean water. It’s practically paradise; this is what Levi imagined living on the surface would be.

Still, the shack was so far away from places Levi needed to go to earn money from. He demanded Faye come with him to the upper level, even promising him that Levi would find a place directly hit by sunlight since he likes sunbathing so much. But Faye refused every time. Levi tried every trick he knows, from bribing and even to sweet-talking (which made Faye laugh long and hard at his attempt, the bastard).

“You can just visit me once a week,” Faye choked out, remnants of laughter stuttered through his throat. Tucking a strand of hair behind his ears –he had been growing it out recently. “Or once a month even. I don’t mind. Do what you need to do, Levi.”

That's far from what Levi wanted. He had to keep Faye close, so Levi could make sure he’s safe. Arguments come and go for months, and he still couldn’t convince Faye to move. Faye’s disappearances had lessened and more sporadic for the last three years; Levi wanted to take this opportunity to make sure Faye stayed longer, within his sight and reach. As per his own guideline, _only keep things you can’t live without._

Levi ought to blame himself, really, _he_ made Faye indispensable in his life, now he’s bound to die for his attachments. So, it’s logical Levi wanted Faye close by.

Then, Levi came home (because that’s what it is now) with the annoying sandy-blond pest who’s been tailing him around for a week, and got his dumb bitch ass wounded from protecting Levi’s back. Out of guilt and obligation from gratitude, he had no choice but to brought him to Faye. Faye took one look at the guy and got to work immediately.

“I’m Farlan,” the blond told them, sipping on a warm ginger tea on one hand and munching on fruit sandwich on the other. Levi’s lips curled at the crumbs falling on the table. He seemed chastised enough by Levi’s expression to put down the two before speaking again, properly. “Farlan Church.”

“Nobody asked.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Farlan. I’m Faye, you obviously already knew Levi.”

Levi stamp down the rubber snap on skin his heart felt when Faye easily shared his name after Farlan introduced himself, whilst Levi worked his ass off for _years_ to get Faye to spill. It’s _not_ jealousy. He’s just felt indignant by this show of injustice.

Farlan started to work with Levi when he proved himself useful and skilled with handling money, gathering information, and one hell of a tactician. Not to mention he had connections that Levi never bothered to make. Faye always griped him about making allies, but Levi has the charisma of dirt and no social skill to be tactful with his words. He says things as it is and he hates bullshitting just to make people like him. People follow him because of his competence, of his strength, of his _actions_. He liked it when Faye denied his claims, saying Levi could be charming if he put some fucking effort into it.

“You hounded me for years just to get my name,” Faye pointed out. He poked Levi with the handle of a ladle dripping chicken stew with carrots and potatoes that smelled like heaven, and vegetable croquette as a side dish. Farlan hit jackpot robbing the right merchant today, thus, the chicken. Faye was actually torn between making roasted chicken or a stew for dinner, Farlan wanted a stew for some reason Levi couldn’t fathoms –he wanted roasted chicken, but it’s not _his_ loot to dictate. “You’re persistent, and you’re honest.”

“People ain’t charmed with blunt honesty around here, Flower Boy.” Levi stole the ladle and scooped the stew into a bowl for Farlan, who's drooling from his seat. Levi had Farlan washed himself thoroughly in the bathing shed before he parked his ass on his seat at the dinner table. Farlan did it without complaint and with the same vigor as Levi did when Faye first brought him into the shed. Farlan came out red and happy. Levi handed him extra croquette.

“They should. _I_ do.” Faye took his seat as Levi handed him a bowl.

Ah, right. Faye upheld honesty to the highest regard. Levi personally thought it’s hypocritical of him. Faye might never lie, but he’s not completely forthcoming with his words either. What right did he have to demand honesty from others when he himself secreted away the true meaning of things he spoke of? 

Apparently, Faye thought Levi adopted the guy into their fold, as Farlan started hanging around the shack and talked animatedly to Faye because Levi was as terrific in conversation as a rock. He got fascinated with the garden and the books (Farlan knew how to read already, so Faye only honed his skill and taught him cursive), he also stared at Faye like a god incarnate after tasting his home-cooked meals. Levi got wickedly enthused when Faye employed the same condition to Farlan when he’s visiting; a bottle of liquid horseshit-and-ratass and a bottle of orange sludge each visit.

Farlan didn’t come as often as Levi because of it, but he still worked together with Levi in the day. Levi ought to be pleased if Faye didn’t keep asking about Farlan.

“It’s nice to see you making friends,” Faye admitted when Levi pushed him on why was he so fascinated with shitty Farlan anyway. “He’s your age, and you get along with him. You need more people you can trust, Levi.”

“I trust _you_ ,” Levi confessed, deadpan. Unabashed. Unlike Faye, who pretended he didn’t catch it. His ears red as he busies himself pouring thoughts into ink on his journal and his papers of diagrams.

“You still need friends, old man,” Faye grumbled behind his journal, “more than just subordinates. I can’t be your _only_ friend, Levi. It’s not… good for you. In a long term.”

Faye had been disappearing more and more frequent lately, deeper into the abandoned slums. Levi doesn’t know what he’s searching for, he could only trust Faye to always come back in the end.

.

The fifth guideline came to light the day Levi finally, _finally_ gets Faye to come with him to the upper levels.

Levi would be the first to admit that he's a greedy, possessive person, who won’t share things he couldn’t live without to just anyone. One of those things is Faye. He doesn’t want anything or anyone in this rotten city tainting Faye, but that’s ridiculous because Faye was _plenty_ tainted already. The complete ease to murder, the confidence and pragmatic approach to fighting, and the nightmares; were clear tells Faye was not faultless. He's a human with a lot of mistakes he shouldered and burdened his every breath. That thought had perished, but another took its place.

That day, they needed Faye to examine crates of spices and herbs the gang raided from a merchant. To determine which were worth more or less, which were edible, and which they could spare to enjoy for themselves. The crates too heavy to carry down, and the types of spices too many to sample. Levi had no choice, Farlan insisted; they needed Faye’s expertise in herbs to earn profit from this loot. Farlan was smoother with his words, so he managed to persuade the doctor to come with them.

Faye’s eyes glimmered like the most brilliant, precious jewels when he saw them, sniffing and tasting some samples, murmuring in wonder. He pointed which were rare and valuable enough the original price could be tweaked to their profit, and which could be spared (Faye emphasized five cans of black tea blend as something they _definitely_ could spare, Levi gonna gift him two rolls of wool yarn later). Muttering a few recipes he could finally cook with some of them.

Levi was happy to see Faye so animated, but what he _didn’t_ like was how some members of his gang scanned the doctor head to feet, with what Levi could guess as the similar expression he had when first seeing Faye. Enamored.

Faye was stunning in the dreary Underground. Levi and Farlan had to fend away stray gazes that eyed Faye hungrily throughout their journey to the gang’s safehouse, with Levi’s terrifying glare and a glint of a knife, while Farlan pulled up Faye’s red sweater’s hood to cover his head, whispering to keep his head down. At least their people behaved themselves after witnessing Faye effortlessly carried a crate one-handed and tore all the rest bare-handed.

On their way back, they had to take a detour and weaved through the labyrinth of alleys, when some suspicious group of people started tailing them. Levi recognized those lot, and he’ll rather rot with the long-decayed bodies underneath the gladioluses before they could get their filthy hands on Faye and sold him like a cattle. Human traffickers, are what they are. Faye figured it out too, so he started picking up his pace, not needing to be steered by hand-holding. For someone who never went upstairs, Faye could navigate his way through the town as proficient and confident as Levi and Farlan.

Unfortunately, their pursuers were also adept, as they, like Levi and Farlan, had to be familiar with the layout of Underground to survive for so long. They just couldn’t seem to lose their pursuers. That’s when Faye came up with the most original, dumbest idea known to mankind. 

“No, Faye.” He growled. It wouldn’t be the last time Levi said this to Faye.

“I’ve got enough star anise!” Faye gasped out, as they’re still running through the piss-smelling alleyway. “I’ll drop them as they drag me off, and you two just need to follow them! Like breadcrumbs! Get the rest of the gang and find me!”

“And what exactly is your angle here, Faye?!” Farlan shouted before them, running faster somehow, “We can lose them in the next turn!”

“They’re human traffickers,” Faye remarked, Levi about to roll his eyes and barks something snide– “They must have a hideout where they keep the other victims! Levi!”

“Fuck that! That’s a shit plan! There ain’t no guarantee I can find you in time! There are too many of those bastards!”

“People! Are! Not! Things!” like a judge gavel hammering into echo, his words were final. “They are _not_ to be sold or bought! They’re not to be owned and discarded! They! Have! Free! Will! Levi!

Levi made a mistake looking back, meeting the scorching gaze of those brilliant green-blue fire, determination and vengeance personified. “Place your faith in me! I can handle them! Trust me, Levi!”

It wouldn’t be the last time Levi relented to those eyes. He passed Faye his favorite knife –the one Kenny gave to him.

Faye made a show of playing wounded, lying on the ground as if he was punched in the stomach as Levi and Farlan climbed the walls to hide on the rooftop. As if they abandoned Faye to save their own skin. It made his stomach churn and bitter bile hung on the back of his throat. Levi wanted to lunge and waste the bastard who dragged Faye by the hair and rubbed his dirty hands on Faye’s cheek, cooing something lewd that crawls beneath Levi’s skin in the most disgusting way. Farlan had to hold him back by the shoulder.

Faye abhors being manhandled and restrained. The struggle he put up almost honest, his expression plainly shows his extreme displeasure. They dragged him, tied and blindfolded, mouth stuffed with stained cloth. The edge of the roof he’s clutching white-knuckled, cracked and broken to pieces from the force of Levi’s self-restraint.

Levi and Farlan went to gather the crew. Whatever expression in Levi’s face or the tone in his voice, it was severe enough to get them all scrambling to follow without another word.

They follow the trail of star anise to a rundown flat near the 11th Stairway to the surface. Sparse of people. Well, not really sparse, technically. If you didn’t count dead bodies as people. On the bodies, there’s only a small part of the wounds from a knife, but the most common cause of deaths were those from bites with such immense jaw strength the flesh were torn off. From a blunt force so heavy it caved in the skull. Of broken bones, dislocated joints, and some are just lying there. Not a single visible wound, not breathing. Levi ain’t fazed. He already knew Faye's freakishly strong. And he’s a doctor.

Some of his people puked, some just paled and try not to step on the pool of blood –which was impossible, the whole ground was flooded. Farlan covered his mouth with his shirt collar, looking green, eyes glassy. There’s still sound of loud scuffle inside, Levi doesn’t waste time kicking in the door and ducked when a man went flying over his head. He heard Farlan yelped.

Inside was less of a hostage-holding hideout and more of something one would find in a slaughterhouse.

There are skinned, headless, limbless bodies hanged by hooks on the ceiling, preserved flesh and organs in glass jars, some of them shattered on the blood-stained floor. Dissected human bodies laid on long tables, victims with the bodies still whole lying unconscious –or dead– on the floor. In the middle of it all, a squall of a beast, kicking, punching, fighting as if he got nothing to lose; Faye smashing a chair over a man twice his size, before elbowing another behind him.

Levi set aside the horror and repulsion to jump into action, ax-kicking the shoulder of a bastard about to attack a little girl curled up in the corner. She’s shaking like a leaf in a torn bedsheet she’s wearing as a dress, hair clotted with blood, eyes wild like a hunted deer, her teeth clattering violently. He pushed the thug away from her, snapping the neck with his kick. What kind of scum would harm a terrorized bystander, let alone the helpless victim of this whole mess?

Farlan was too busy dealing with two men who tried to get away; unfortunately for them, they’ll be met with a violent welcome from Levi’s own set of thugs. Faye rolled away dodging a cleaver knife swing from a desperate butcher of a man, who quickly entangled in Levi’s deadly chokehold, too preoccupied to answer the girl’s cry when another came crawling to her, gun brandished.

“Fight!”

He belatedly realized the shout was coming from Faye, towards the girl. He shouted again, his voice strong as if it could rattle the walls, “Fight! Fight for yourself! Fight to be free! Fight to live!”

It snapped something within her. She screamed as she hastily rolled away from a gunshot, stumbling back to her unsteady feet, but her expression is spooked prey no longer; twisted into a cornered predator with nothing to lose. The girl cried out an animalistic roar, shooting in a blur under the gun, under the man. A sharp squelch. A choked gasp. The gun dropped, the man fell to the ground. Blot of red blooming from his solar plexus.

The girl fell to the ground in a heap of limbs, the clatter of her knife brought silence into the room. Levi went to inspect her, finding that it was _his_ knife she was using. The knife he gave to Faye. Levi tugged her by the hair, he determined the girl to be alive. Unlike three other girls they found scattered in the flat.

He couldn’t nor wanted to stop Faye when he brought her to the shack, healing and feeding her, clothed her, and let her sleep there. Apparently, her hair was naturally red, Faye said sheepishly, after scrubbing blood off them with all his might. Faye’s sweater was a lost cause though.

“They weren’t selling people, not really,” Faye explained, slow and factual, as if he’s trying to distance himself else he’ll lose control, “They kidnapped those people to harvest their organs – _every_ organ, to be sold at the black market. Do you know some people would buy human flesh as _delicacies_?”

Not until now he doesn’t. Levi could live on without knowing, honest.

“They ain’t no better than titans outside the walls then,” Levi spat, harsh tone as volatile as he feels inside, “we don’t need to worry about man-eating giants if the goddamn people inside this cage gonna eat each other anyway. Sick bastards.”

Faye hummed in agreement. “Thankfully, she’s intact. All limbs, bones, and organs counted, and not one missing. I checked.”

Then, Levi went; “You do realize that we have to keep her now, right?”

“Just until she can fend for herself,” said Faye. What had become of those famous last words was dying a slow, inevitable death. Because they ended up keeping her around even after she’s capable to fend for herself. She had chosen to stay with them, begging Levi to induct her into the gang.

Fifth guideline: Faye may help the helpless, but he won’t resolve their problems for them. He'll give them the opportunity to rise, and it’s up to them to take it or not.

“Imgh Ishabhelb,” said the bedraggled girl, between a mouthful of meat pie on one hand, and a spoonful of cabbage roll on the other, “Ishabelbh Maholia.”

Levi passed her a cup of water, as Faye cleaned her face with a napkin. “Chew and swallow, brat. Don’t want you to die from choking on a pie. That’ll be dumber than getting shot.”

The young doctor snorted. “Speaking from personal experience, huh?”

Isabel quickly became a permanent fixture in their group. Isabel was only younger than Faye by a year, but she looked even younger with her stick-figure, frail, tiny body and big doe eyes that dominate her features. Latching on to Faye like a leech and following Levi around like a lost puppy. She and Farlan bickered a lot about everything under the sun. Levi knows Farlan was just trying not to grow attached, but based on his own experience… it’s a useless endeavor, really –and it rang true when Farlan started nagging her out of protective instinct and teased her like a sibling.

Isabel adored Faye, as Faye's usually the one who spoiled her. He gave her clean, hand-me-down clothes and regaled her with stories of world above, while brushing her hair and ties them into two pigtails, telling her to take care of them, because red hair are rare and hers looks like polished garnet –that, Levi realized, was a damn good strategy to make Isabel bathe without struggle.

Levi, however, with the right disposition to discipline and to be strict with her, became the object of hero-worship, someone Isabel looked up to, much to his eternal exasperation. He's far from a role model a person should strive to be.

Farlan blamed Levi for the reason Isabel became a kleptomaniac, as he's the one responsible to teach her skills needed to survive and thrive in the Underground. Namely, how to throw one hell of a punch, rob someone blind on naked daylight, and how to get away with it unscathed. Faye was just amused at every weird shit she brought home with her, from valuable trinkets to useless junk to roadkill, he always patted her head for a job well done, while Levi sent her off to bathe. Thoroughly.

Faye gave her a necklace of thin leather cord tied to a hole on a crystal-like stone, emitting its own light.

“It’s something I found in the caves,” Faye explained, to a starry-eyed Isabel. “I don’t need it, you can have it. As long as you promise you’ll behave, okay? Don’t steal more than you should, listen to Farlan more often, and think twice about what Levi said –he’s shit at saying the right words to say, it causes a lot of misunderstanding when he actually means well.”

Levi had nothing to defend against that. Because it’s spot on. He’s a man of action, he doesn’t waste his breath with meaningless talks. Say what he wanna say, do what must be done. _Own up to his words._

“Don’t let Faye influence you too much, Isabel,” he shot back, “he may let you have free reign, but he’s a manipulative, smooth-talking bastard who would steer you into the direction _he_ wanted you to go. But he means well.”

There’s only one mattress fit for two in the shack. Isabel experienced the first few years Levi endured to get Faye’s name, running up and down the stairways from the gang’s safehouse to Faye’s shack, tailing along Levi or snooping around him to get there first. Levi was forced to sleep in the safe house again, back to visiting instead of staying in the shack, as Faye wouldn’t let Isabel be left alone in the upper level, even with Farlan around.

.

On one of the days they visited, Isabel learning how to read and write from Faye, Farlan asked Faye if he got any medicine that could heal the notorious disease that plagues the Underground. The one that slowly ate away the feeling of their legs and renders them helpless.

Faye stared at Farlan with an unreadable expression, Levi paused cleaning his knives. That Look always means that Faye about to drop something world-tilting, and Levi braced himself.

Farlan faltered, waving his hands in an attempt to clear the awkwardness. “I mean- I know it’s from the lack of sunlight but–”

“Vitamin D.”

Farlan was left agape like a fish out of water, Isabel snickered at him. Levi’s lips twitched in amusement even though he's also left confounded.

Faye went to open his cabinet full of medicines. “It’s what sunlight gives you; Vitamin D. Helps your bones grow by helping them absorb Calcium –a substance your body gets from food to keep your bones healthy. People here don’t get enough sunlight, thus, lacking Vitamin D, they become susceptible to such disease that makes their bones weak because they can’t absorb Calcium,” Faye pulled that cursed potion they're forced to drink in the vicinity of Faye’s territory, he placed it on the table, in front of Farlan with an audible thunk.

“This thing you three call liquid horseshit is rich of Vitamin D. In other words, I’ve been giving you the remedy for the disease this whole time.”

They never complained about drinking them ever again. When Faye told them the potion is the reason he’s grown faster and taller, Levi chugged three of them each day. Farlan was only able to stomach two bottles a day, after breakfast and dinner. Isabel tried to get away with only one bottle, but Faye was nothing but persistent _and_ persuasive.

Faye explained about the other bottle too; the orange was from carrots. It kept your eyes healthy, especially in a place where darkness reign, early short-sight and blindness were common in the Underground. Faye wouldn’t let them skip this one either, he doesn’t want any of them suffering from bad eyesight, and it explained Faye’s insistent nagging when they read without sunlight.

Levi should _really_ learn to listen to Faye more often.

In the end, it was Farlan who successfully dragged Faye back upstairs with them. To meet with people who worked for Levi and giving them the remedy, treating those who started showing the symptoms. They drank obediently because Levi was glaring at them from behind Faye’s shoulder. The bastard had grown taller than him. Much, much taller. Levi still holding on a hope that by miracle, late puberty would do him justice soon, because Faye keeps teasing him, telling him he told him so, that he should’ve sunbathed more often.

Levi knew Faye was more soft-hearted than he let on when he kept climbing upstairs all by himself. Faye looked around finding people sickly and wounded around him, he treated them and gives them medicines. This goes on for months. Each visit to the upper level, Levi watched with silent glee how Faye’s stubbornness crumbles bit by bit.

Just before the thirtieth visit, Faye came back home from his shenanigans in the deeper slums covered in grime and mud, he smelled like sweat and unmentionables Levi would rather not imagine about, with the brightest, widest grin Levi ever witnessed coming from him. He looked so happy, so relieved.

“I want to stay on the upper level!” cheered Faye, practically bouncing on the spot.

“Not ‘till you scrub your entire ass raw we’re not,” Levi clamped his nose, pushing Faye out back to the direction of the bathing shed with the blunt end of a broom. “I ain’t gonna be caught dead walkin’ around with a living feces.”

People started to know about Faye and seek him out for his help. They know Faye never demanded payment in return; they can smell Faye’s stupid sentimentality. Some are bold enough to think they can take advantage of that and tried to force Faye to work for them. ‘Tried’ is the keyword, because Levi ain’t gonna let that fly. A lot of people ended up getting beaten up that day, and Faye didn’t heal them. He welcomed back a bloody-lipped Levi with an indulgent grin, antiseptic at the ready.

Faye didn’t protest when Farlan proposed a system, where they make the public believed Faye worked exclusively for Levi’s group, therefore under their protection. Those who wanted Faye’s help have to pay a fee to them or owe them a favor. Faye still came back to his garden to get ingredients, but he started to make pots out of cans and empty lanterns, which he hangs around their new place.

It brightened up the place, Isabel cheered. Levi was just happy Faye finally within arm’s reach while Levi went on an ‘errand’. He doesn’t have to bust his ass running up and down the sodding stairs to return to Faye. Though, that workout did wonders to his legs.

.

Other than the occasional sleeping draught and the vitamin shit concoctions, Faye regularly consumed three bottles of different medicines that smelled of spicy roots and tangy herbs. Faye looked the most anxious Levi had ever seen when one of the bottles ran out, he said the ingredients couldn’t be harvested until next month.

Then. On the first day of spring, when the temperature has risen, and the soil defrosted enough for them to begin planting seeds again…

Faye bled.

He and Farlan were on the other side of the town that day, dealing with a territorial dispute in an abandoned warehouse, of someone crossing theirs and steering trouble brawling with one of their own. But that flew off the window when Isabel broke in with a loud crack of the door. She rushed to him, clawing, sobbing ugly, frantic as if the Devil itself on her heels.

“Faye-bro is dying!” She screeched, her tears nearly choked her, she’s hiccupping between words. “Help! Farlan! Levi-bro, please! He’s bleeding! He can’t move! I don’t know what to do!”

Levi sprinted back to the safe house like someone set fire to his ass, faster than he thought he could ever manage, leaving Farlan and Isabel to the dust.

There were drops of red on the ground in front of the door, signs of painful long drag from outdoor to get in. Inside, Levi found Faye lying on the bed of his room, blood seeps through his pants and staining their sheets in vicious crimson. Tortured groans and whimpers and the way he clutched his stomach like it’s been gutted, led Levi to the worsts of conclusion when he found Faye lying curled up on the mattress. He thought somebody ambushed Faye and assaulted him. 

“I’m a boy,” was Faye’s answer to Levi’s interrogation in his attempt to figured out who he has to butcher, but the look in Faye’s face was enough to make Levi believed Faye could inflict something far more painful than Levi could muster. “I. Am. A. Boy. You hear me?”

“Don’t fuck around right now, Faye! You’re dying!” Now Levi felt stupid. Instead of looking through the medical kit to save Faye, he fucking interrogated his dying body in an attempt to reap vengeance. Vengeance meant nothing if Levi ended up with another person to mourn. “Shit! Where’s the med kit?!”

Before Levi could raid the cabinet, Faye pulled him by his shirt collar, their breaths mingling as Faye hissed sharply. “I am a _boy_ , and the way my body works doesn’t define it otherwise. _Do you understand?_ ”

Levi frantically confirmed that statement, even though he had no idea what Faye was yapping about at the moment, begging Faye to just tell him where the shitty medicines are already.

That particular incident ended with Levi, Farlan, and Isabel learning that their favorite doctor was born with a body that doesn’t suit his true identity. Faye stripped his bloodstained pants and changed clothes with clean ones. Isabel was thoroughly confused, making weird, aborted noises.

“YOU GOT BOOBS?!” She screeched.

Levi nearly slammed his head into the door frame, carrying the bucket of water and scrub. Farlan was not so fortunate, as he slipped on the spilled water, dropping the hot towel and tea.

“Yes, Isabel, I do. Everyone has a pair. Now, could you please pass me that towel?”

“YOU GOT PU–”

“Isabel shut your trap and get me the vinegar! Farlan clean that shit up!”

His upper body doesn’t have much to hide, but he usually suppressed them by wearing a tight, but flexible undershirt. Levi wondered how moronically thick he was that he never noticed those before when he spent years sleeping in the same bed with Faye? It’s not difficult to notice the lack of… Well, Faye's certainly missing what Levi and Farlan possess between their legs – Aw, what the hell, he could say ‘dicks’ just fine when he’s cursing a shitty lowlife who tried to cross him, but why is it hard to say when–

Faye is a boy. Levi understood and accepted this as an unshakable truth of this world. It’s just that his body worked against him and the three bottles helped it conform to how Faye desires it to be. How Faye _needs_ it to be. The monthly bleeding and the pain reduced significantly thanks to one of the bottles, the other two helps his body to produce ‘chemicals’ that makes sure Faye grows up right; grows up to be a man.

They made sure Faye drinks the third bottle and a wild carrot tea daily, much to Faye’s amusement, after he told them it promotes sterility. Faye teased them (and assuring anxious Isabel), saying it’s not like he’s going around hooking up with people. But Levi insisted, grumbling about not wanting to deal with smaller Faye running around and giving him headaches.

Isabel whined and begged Faye for some of the pain-reducing potions, calling him stingy for keeping it from her, who also suffers from monthly bleeding tortures. Faye, feeling bad, shared with her, making two of the bottles each month. But he’s not going to give Isabel the other two meds, which would mess up her hormones and whatnot. What, do you want to be a boy too, Bel? And Isabel stated, with the most serious face she ever produced, that boys are dumb, so no.

She’s completely shit at making the potions, Farlan couldn’t quite got it right so he opted to ask relatable topic about Faye’s needs so he could better understand what he needed to get or to watch out for.

Levi knows how to brew the three bottles perfectly while blindfolded by the end of the month.

And the hydrangeas Faye toiled to grow blooms to mark Levi’s first successful brew.

.

** 841 **

They made a vow the day they came clean with each other.

“I never did tell you why I cried when you cut em.”

Faye was startled out of his zone, nearly cutting Levi’s strands too short. A bit panicky, his reflection in the mirror double-checked his work before meeting Levi’s eyes in the mirror. “Huh, what?”

Once, when fourteen-year-old Levi was still bullying twelve-year-old Faye to get his name, Levi made an off-hand remark about his annoying fringe getting in his eyes, the moment he flipped his pocket knife open, second away from doing his usual chop-and-done, Faye disarmed him swiftly. He dragged the chair in front of the only mirror in the shack, bustling around gathering a bowl of water, towel, scissors and a comb, faster than Levi’s eyes could track. Then, he told Levi to park his ass down the chair and don’t squirm. He’s not going to tolerate that poor excuse of a rat’s nest Levi called hair to exist under his roof any longer. Faye’s gem-like eyes made it clear he wouldn’t accept any excuses. Needless to say, Levi stripped down to his trousers and parked his ass on the chair.

When Faye cut Levi’s uneven overgrown hair into a neat undercut, Levi cried. Tears sliding down his cheeks quietly.

Faye was of course, understandably startled, thought he had hurt Levi while cutting the hair. But with Levi’s insistence, he finished his work. Levi couldn’t stop rubbing the rough, orderly undercut. After that, Levi asked Faye to teach him how he cuts his hair. He doesn’t need Faye’s help anymore for years, so it was a surprise for Faye when Levi asked him to cut it now.

“My mother used to cut my hair this way. She’s good, but kind of clumsy with the scissors; she pulled my hair and hurt my scalp, but the end result is not bad,” he confessed. It’s a long-dead, buried memory he tried not to think of. Because just thinking about his mother hurt him something ugly, despite years of his best effort convincing himself he’s over it. Levi snorted, “She said I look like an _angel_ , can you believe that? I never get it right, but you did.”

Levi told Faye he used to let it grow until it gets annoying, then he cut them with his knife carefully, meticulously, as best as he could, still, he couldn’t ever recreate the way his mother cut it. Until Faye cut it. The hands of someone who doesn’t even know his mother.

Faye went ghost-quiet.

They went to bed early. There are only two bedrooms in the safehouse, Isabel wanted her own room because she’s ‘a lady with ladies stuff’ (by _stuff_ she meant her questionable loot), Farlan preferred to sleep on the couch or a mattress facing the door to keep guard from intruders. Levi and Faye had no problem sharing, they’ve been sleeping in the same bed for years it became clear to them they couldn’t sleep well without someone guarding their back in their sleep. Faye picked the room with a window facing the sunrise.

On the safety of their bed, secreted within the dark, he could come clean. Levi told Faye about his mother. About Kenny. About his desire to live on the surface. And to always have a clean place to sleep. Which was the reason why Levi liked living in the shack, he admitted, it’s the closest thing to tasting life on the surface, to taste fresh air and sunlight and living amongst flowers. Faye’s eyes were vivid in the dark, the lantern wasn’t lit, but he was wide awake this moonlit night.

“I came from outside the walls.”

Levi wasn’t surprised to know Faye was from the surface, but the fact he lived outside the walls shocked him.

“I stole something,” Faye whispered, the night was cold and they huddled together inside a warm, thick blanket Faye hand-knitted all year when he’s not busy with other errands. “Something valuable. From a noble family. I didn’t expect it. I didn’t mean to steal it. My body was dying and that thing saved me. I couldn’t give it back even if I wanted to, so I ran. I ran away, I went outside the walls, because it’s my only chance of freedom. It’s not easy out there, but I managed. And then, I found a hole in the ground that leads me here so here I am,” Faye buried his nose into the blanket, he doesn’t look scared, but grim.

“If somebody knows what I am, they’ll kill me.”

_It’s not worth telling anyone your name._

Levi felt a twinge of guilt scratching his throat, he was relentless in his pursuit for the answer, he didn’t once thought of why exactly Faye was so adamant of keeping his name to himself. When Levi, of all people, should’ve figured it out on day one. Levi understood.

Levi told Faye of what his mother had him swear not to tell a soul to; the name of his family.

“You don’t gotta tell me your full name. But Imma tell ya mine anyways,” Levi made sure they both are unwavering in keeping eye contact. He's letting himself be vulnerable, he's giving himself away. “Ackerman. That’s the name my mother passed to me. Levi Ackerman.”

He told Faye of the persecution of people with his blood, and Faye was completely shell-shocked throughout the confession. Levi doesn’t know whether it’s because of Levi being a hunted species or the fact he tells Faye at all. Levi just gave Faye a knife to end him, and Levi trusted Faye not to use it.

Levi saw naked fear inside those gem-like eyes. A knowledge of secret Levi can’t discern, before it dissolved into something akin to defeat. It disappeared, however, as Faye opened his eyes again, and Levi saw how Faye’s jaw clench, there’s a resolve as sturdy as steel in the way he appraise the world now.

Faye whispered to him his last name in return, he said it with devotion, as if establishing himself when he’s been lost and uncertain of his role. He’s standing on even ground now. Faye had found his balance.

He gave Levi his name. Levi vowed to take it to his grave.

Faye laughed, jokingly he said; “I bet you’ll be the one who’s gonna spill to someone.”

Levi let a grin grows on his lips, “Fuck that. Never. I won’t ever. Maybe you’ll be the one who squealed first.”

That’s also impossible. They both were the kind that took responsibility for their words. Talk the talk, walk the walk.

The realization came slowly in his mind, but when Faye finally lulled into slumber from fighting off the usual fatigue, it struck Levi like a kick in the gut.

_Guilt._

That’s what motivated Faye to move forward. The nightmares, the admittance of crime, names he whimpered sorrowfully in his sleep, the vehement respect he gave to the dead. He ran away, he lived alone. If he was hunted, it’s possible he’s alone because he’s the only one that survived from whatever tragedy befell him, he must’ve dragged someone he cared about into his problems and they paid for it. And he ran away. To freedom.

_To live on. Onwards._

Like Levi, Faye lives by rules.

 _One_ , he helped the helpless but doesn’t like to be helped. He’d do things his own way, and doesn’t appreciate help but allows it if he asked. He alone would save himself, and he alone decided what to do with his life, he refused to be saved because his life is his own responsibility, but had little to no regard for his own life.

 _Two_ , always respect the dead. His job is saving people, preserving life, yet he would kill if he must, and he would take the burden of those deaths with him.

 _Three_ , there’s no such thing as truth in this world. So value knowledge, but never take it at face value.

 _Four_ , careful with his words. Tell no lies but secreted away the whole truth, you could protect yourself and others that way because words often crueler than a knife wound. Spare the curses and be polite unless under extreme duress, that way people would have an easier time to like you.

 _Five_ , never dictate what people should or should not do. Help those who need it, but he wouldn’t solve their problems for them. Give them an opportunity, and _ask_ instead. He let them choose –doesn’t mean he won’t manipulate them to go where he needs them to, though. With all of that, Faye makes a contradicting picture.

His code, however, was simple. _Keep moving forward._

He’s been through hell and back, but he kept moving forward. He might not know what lies ahead, but he kept moving forward. He stuck to his path and moved forward. Because standing still and let the world dictate your fate for you was worse than ending up dead. Faye value freedom, for himself, and others –which was why he never told people what to do, he _asked_. He respected their decisions.

That’s why he understood Levi, and his need for choices and codes to stick by. Choices he barely, if ever, got a lot in this life. So, Faye gave him freedom. He didn’t kick Levi out of his life because he’s endlessly generous, he never stopped Levi once he had his mind set on something. He knew Levi made his decision. Faye gave him the freedom to do so.

Levi closed his eyes, and started to count.

 _One_ , keep myself and my surroundings clean and tidy. A semblance of control I can have in this life is by living the way I wanted to be perceived; powerful and in control, clean and orderly. Even if I don’t feel like that, even when the life I’m living tainted me with sins and blood. If I look controlled, I won’t make people doubt my abilities, I won’t give the opportunity to exploit me. I must take care of myself, my body is the vessel for which I walk this land, it shows others what I am. I am a human, therefore I will act and look like one. My surroundings reflect my existence, so pleasant it will be to live in. I won’t let this body rot before my time is up, I won’t live within a place I abhor to stay.

 _Two_ , only keep things I can’t live without. I will gain many things that are important to me, but I’m bound to keep losing some just to stay alive. I may lose many things, but I will go on to find new goals and things to cherish in life, to continue living. So I will keep them close, cherish them… while I still have them. This world is ever-changing, it won’t let any permanence lives. No such thing as forever.

 _Three_ , own up to my words. Life is short, so say what I want to say, do what I say I will do. Don’t waste breath talking empty air, make every word meaningful because every word is prayer; a vow. Someone is bound to hear me, whether it lives or not, whether it’s a passerby or the starless night, they will be my witness.

 _Four_ , take no shit from anyone. I put everything I had in things I do, in return, my rewards should be equal to the effort. Should it not, I won’t let it fly. There’s little to no justice in this life I’m living, I’m going to exact the justice on my own terms. They will pay, and so will I. I will always pay my debts.

 _Five_ , my choices are mine alone. Life doesn’t give me a lot of options, but I will make my own choices. Nothing influences me, nothing can sway me. If I made my decision, I will stick to it. I won’t ask twice.

Then… my code should be...

“Live on,” Levi whispered. Right in front of his face, Faye slept away, his energy seeped off and only light would rouse him. But the night would hear him. “I will live. Live the way I want, with who I want and with who wants me. I will live, because death is inevasible, no argument. So, live I will, because it’s what I _choose_.”

He reached out, holding Faye’s hand. The moonlight halo his silhouette, the pot of purple lilac by the windowsill cast a long shadow. He went to sleep.

Winter approaching again. The cold nights are far more bearable when you have someone to share heat with. Isabel migrated to their room after two days of stubbornness, she slipped between them, burrowing deep into Faye’s hug, while Levi bitched about her cold feet. Farlan later joined in, latching onto Levi’s back. It was decided they would sleep on the floor, piling in mattresses and blankets until it became a toasty nest and they’re sleeping in a puppy pile. The following days weren’t any better; the weather was bitter and harsh to the bones for months. But they still got work to do.

Faye knitted them each scarf and matching gloves he dipped in natural homemade dye. Isabel and Farlan got orange and blue respectively. He presented the red pair to Levi with a strange expression on his face that grew stranger as Levi wind the scarf around his neck. Faye wore a white scarf.

Levi wore his for months until after the air warms again. He outgrew the gloves as years passed, but he’d still use the scarf, keeping it in mint condition and re-dyes it whenever the color started to fade.

.

Levi and Farlan raided a Military Police HQ one day. Bringing home four 3-Dimensional Maneuver Gear.

The three of them fumbled through the belts and the blade container, Faye watched them with that unreadable expression, lost in deep contemplation as he fiddled with the trigger. Levi had long learned to know what _that_ look meant. He stopped his useless endeavor and let Faye approached him, starting the motion of tightening the belts and hooking the correct hoops, wordlessly showing them how to rotate the axis of the grappling hook with the empty sword hilts. Levi imprinted all the information permanently into his brain.

“How do you know how to use the gear, Faye?” Farlan asked, fiddling with his gear after Faye shows him the ropes.

Faye and Levi exchanged a look. Faye turned away to start equipping himself with his own gear. “I came from the surface, originally. Knew a few Garrison soldiers, most of them are a bunch of bored drunkards, so...”

They accepted it without question when Faye began to trail off, his gaze was pained and longing. Farlan and Isabel also had long learned of nightmares plaguing their doctor, they learned how to brew the tea to help him sleep and calmed him when he was jolted awake by a violent dream. Isabel cuddled him after every nightmare, she’s always been more empathetic than the rest of them, for she shed honest tears along hearing Faye’s heaving sobs.

Levi and Faye figured out their balance quick and took swinging and flying like a duck to water, Farlan stumbled and fumbled in his swings and missing his shot sometimes, while Isabel fell more often than them. Faye winced when Isabel swung down and hit her head, hanging upside down and whining in pain. Faye showed Isabel and Farlan pointers, while Levi swung around the alleyways. He watched impassively from the ceilings as Isabel accidentally flung herself down to the lower levels, screaming like a moron when she could’ve shot another wire. Farlan yelped in panic, Faye diving after her, Farlan yelling at Isabel to _shot another wire now! To where?! Anywhere!_

Levi trusted Faye to catch Isabel. He came back up with Isabel under his arm.

After they mastered the gear, raids became so much easier. Faye didn’t come with them to raid merchants, he took the gear to go to his old shack to tend and harvest his garden, or doing errands for people who paid them for Faye’s medical aid. But it’s obvious that Faye's the most experienced with the gear between three of them.

He swung in the air like he’s born for it. Without fear and with the casual confidence of someone who used them daily. Sometimes even caught doing unnecessary, but impressive stunts with it. Faye never seemed to be bothered or awkward with the long blade boxes or the constricting belts, it’s like they’re part of him.

Then. He began disappearing again. Coming back home late, or on the next day, sometimes he disappeared for days and it got him a lot of shit from Levi, Farlan, and Isabel. Faye always went again, despite his apologies and assurances. It was as if Levi just gave him the very key to unlock the chain that bound Faye to the world. Levi wondered if one day he wouldn’t come back.

Levi once caught Faye on a big, high stalagmite, sitting upon it and looking up to one of the holes that led to the outside world. Sunbathing, he said. Levi should too, so he won’t be forever stuck as a midget. Levi kicked him down from the ledge, Faye laughing as he swung away.

The look on his face when he saw the sky twisted something within Levi, and he knew Faye shared their ambition to live in the surface, but maybe not in the way the three of them envisioned. The next time, he caught Faye swinging _down_ from the surface, from the wild lands of titans. Bringing back strange fruits, plants, and even a motherfucking deer for them to feast, cooking the most delicious and luxurious dinner they had in... well, forever.

Faye must’ve planned this, because now Levi couldn’t forbid him from going back above where blood-thirsty titans roam, but all gifts earth provides lay to be claimed. He reasons that Faye lived out there once, so Levi forced himself to get used to it, and besides, Faye always came back safely and happier.

Levi wondered if Faye used the gear when he stole the thing that forced him to flee from civilization.

.

** 842 **

Frieda just wanted to see Historia again.

She wanted to see her sister, she insisted, but they forbid her. They locked her body and kept her standing proud. It’s been like that since she ate Uncle Uri.

Frieda wished to puke, recalling the event. It’s sick. It’s _wrong_.

Her uncle did not deserve that fate. He did not deserve to carry the burden of--

No, it’s not. It’s what had to be done. Frieda subdued, as the knowledge came to her. It’s what we’ve been doing for years. It’s what it had to be done, to keep the peace.

After the inheritance, Frieda began to take up her late uncle’s routine. She used to admire his words, they inspired her too, knowing she would be his successor, she wondered if she could ever do it justice. Inspiring people. But why- why was it that he never does what he preached, when almighty power is in his gra--

Frieda was jolted back to focus. Ah, right. She needed to do her part. She had spiel a heartfelt wish for peace in the world to people who came to the chapel. It’s not a lie, she always did aspire for a better world. She possessed the power to realize that aspirations now. But she… can’t. If she does, the fragile peace they have now will crumble, war will raze this little paradise they live in, for their time is borrowed, by the empty threat from her ancestor. Karl Fritz.

Now that’s the name. He’s been giving her advice, as it was the power the Founding Titan granted her. All the wealth of knowledge, from centuries past and from many ancestors, connected from death to her. She's so happy! She gets to meet her family! Her family…

Historia.

Oh, Frieda felt so regretful. Every time she visited, she had to wipe off her precious little sister’s memories of her. But it had to be done. She must protect Historia. Protect her… from what?

Frieda forgot herself again. She continued on with her sermon, content and solemn. She regarded the world with crystal-bright clarity now. She saw her family below, amongst the crowd, head down in reverence. Is this how her uncle used to see them? How beautiful is this sight. The peace.

Frieda blinked awake. The clarity shattered from her eyes. Her sermon came to a close, the people started to disperse but some lingered behind to chat in a quiet voice. She could hear them clearly, her senses heightened now with the power of the Titans. But she’s a lady, it’s not proper to eavesdrop.

“Your Majesty.”

Frieda turned, a smile grew on her face as she met the face of the kindly young man, a humble farmer. He's standing a few steps down on the stairs from the platform she’s standing on. She remembered him, he's always kind to Historia, and kept her interaction with her sister secret. He kept to himself too. For that, Frieda befriended him.

“Shh,” Frieda put her finger to her lips, trying to be stern but the smile gave her away. “I told you not to call me that, Frey. I am no Majesty!”

“Ah, of course,” Frey indulged her. He always so mature and understanding, but then again, he's a decade her senior. “Forgive me, it’s hard not to call you that. You have every bit of grace of a royal.”

Frieda hid her snort daintily. “Stop that, old man! I am fifteen!”

“Ew, I know that. I’m not flirting, I’m teasing. You look completely out of it, I swear you drooled through your sermon,” Frey rolled his eyes, “you sounded like you’re echoing someone else’s words, Fri. You scripted that or something?”

Frieda stiffened. She couldn’t remember what she has said, but she knew it’s— it’s what the memories in her head gave her, and she agreed with their sentiment about keeping the peace. No, that’s. Not what _she_ wants. She had the power to stop the Titans, she could—

The bright, clear vision shrouds her gaze again.

“It is my sincere words, from my heart, I truly wish for peace,” she heard herself said, “Please, it has gotten dark, you must go home.”

Frey as if being stung by a prick of rose, jolted slightly, his eyes glazed. He's about to turn around, seemingly about to leave. But then, he shook his head, shaking away something in his mind.

“Ah, but Frieda,” he looked back, a strained smile on his face, “I was going to give you back the book you lent me! But I forgot to bring it, would you mind waiting? Or, we could meet in our usual place, I know it’s gotten dark, but tomorrow I have to visit Yarckel District. I might not be back for another month! I feel so bad if I had to deprive Historia of her favorite story.”

Historia’s name faded the fog momentarily, Frieda breathed a refreshing air by herself again.

“Oh, uh. Of course! It is no problem, I’ll see you in the barn, then.”

Frey nodded, he ducked away from the platform, fading in with the people down effortlessly.

Frieda blinked away the afterimages of stars from her eyes, it’s happening more frequently. The feeling as if she was merely a bystander. Watching her body and her words and her very breath, working by itself, without her conscious consent. It’s her body, why's she becoming a bystander to her own life?

She clutched her head. Begging silently. _For what?_

Frieda blinked again, and she’s in her room. In front of her vanity, one arm already tucked into a periwinkle blue knitted poncho. She learned not to question it, after two months. There’s always a gap in her actions, one moment she was doing something, and the next she was already somewhere else. Frieda stared at her reflection, like meeting a stranger. Still in her white gown she had worn to the chapel. She checked her pocket watch, it’s half an hour since the sermon ended.

Wait.

“Oh no! Frey!” She yelped, frantically putting on the poncho. “He must’ve thought I forgot! What kind of lady am I? Keeping a friend waiting.”

Scolding herself, she went downstairs, creeping carefully so her family wouldn’t notice her sneaking out at night. Frieda slowly closed the backdoor as silently as possible. The night air bothered her no more, her skin becoming insensitive to many inconveniences such as the cold. It’s a blessing, she supposed, but it’s not when she could barely feel the warm hugs her little siblings gave her. Are all titans power not only gives their host invulnerability, but also insensitivity?

Frieda only gotten her power two months ago, Uncle Uri didn’t give her much warning. He was always so distant, but he was a kind man, she knew. Sometimes he would zone out, staring at nothing, seemingly immersed with the very air he breathed. Sometimes, he would be lucid, animated. Frieda often caught him at his most alive with that bodyguard of his, the man Uncle Uri granted redemption. A boorish man with a strange hat, arrogant in his gait, his smile more terrifying than his glare. Frieda never liked him much, scared. But Uncle Uri was fond of him, and the man was more toned down around her uncle.

Frieda knew the man was still mourning for her uncle. He became listless, she knew he’s been staring at her with gaze akin to… agitation. Sorrow. Longing. When she tried to return his gaze, he looked away. As if he never stared in the first place. He could never meet her eyes, for whatever he saw, it’s something that ills him.

She’s been staring at the grass as she walks, wondering, what _did_ people saw in her eyes.

Frieda doesn’t seem to be able to control her actions nowadays, often locked in her own thoughts, content. Why was she so content of staying in her mind, instead of speaking it, instead of realizing that thoughts into actions?

Her head felt like it’s been crinkled. Her feet stopped moving. What was she doing, sneaking out in the middle of the night? What would her people think of her, meeting with a man below her standing, a decade her senior? What would happen to Frey, should the Inner Police suspect ill of him.

Frieda hesitated. She could apologize early in the morning, she could retrieve the book from him then.

She blinked, and she was already half-way back home. A wave of bubbling anger burst from her chest. This is ridiculous! She's just meeting a friend! Who never had ill-intentions towards her, who treated her dear Historia with kindness, who protected her when Frieda herself couldn’t. She won’t let this—this power within her control her actions.

It felt so cramped, in her own body, who urged her to return. No. Frieda just wanted to do this one thing, meeting a friend. Frieda just wanted to see her sister again. Frieda—

Frieda just wanted to be herself again.

She took big, heaving gulps. It was as if she had been in a brawl with herself, mentally. She had been a prisoner of her own body, and she had little room to its control. She hates it, no she doesn’t, she can’t do anything, she can’t change anything. All the power of the Founding Titan, and she couldn’t do anything. An ancient will, overpowered her own.

Frieda straightened her back, then, turned to the direction she was originally headed.

An old barn, a bit far from the border of the estate. Beyond it was a field of gold; of wheat, of corn, of the abundance of harvest. She first met Frey there, with Historia. She was frantically looking for her lost four-year-old sister, finding her gleefully playing with a bunch of kittens from a basket. The young man holding the basket was laughing, telling her to be careful of their claws.

He introduced himself as Frey. He said he was a mere farm hand, helping the old man of the barn with a few chores whenever he could. He treated Historia with kindness, sneaking her snacks and playing with her, and warning her not to bother her mother too much. That her mother quick to anger, so Historia must thread carefully. Frieda was grateful, at least there’s someone looking out for her sister when she could not.

Frieda pushed open the heavy barn door, “Hello? Frey? I’m sorry I’m late, I was just…”

The barn is empty. Or, seemingly so. Hard to tell when there’s only moonlight from the window. Frieda chided herself for not bringing a lantern. Quite the responsible lady she is. Frieda walked deeper, looking around. Hoping her friend was merely late, if he wouldn’t show up, that means she just missed him. She will return then.

But before she could return outside, she caught a bright glow from within the barn. Frieda trod carefully, watching her step in case she tripped. Her heart nearly jumped out of her ribs when she got close enough.

On a stack of crates in the middle of the barn, lying innocently, is a piece of crystal. The glowing crystal from the Cavern.

Before she could try to comprehend _how_ , she nearly stumbled to her bottom when she found she couldn’t move her feet. Crystal. Her feet are encased in crystal.

The crystal rapidly encased her legs, to her body, up to her shoulders. Her scream muffled as the crystal grows to muffle her lips close. The fog overcame her vision again. She can free herself, she will, with the power of titan inside her--

A hush of air broke her thought, a snap of a wire. A shadow passes the light of the moon, swinging down from the wooden beam of the roof, landing in front of her.

Frey.

Standing tall, she could see he's equipped with 3DMG. His long hair tied in a bun, a dark red robe hiding his white shirt, green-blue eyes vivid in the dark. Under them, long vertical groove cracks his skin down to his cheeks, to his neck like claw marks choking him. The marks of titan shifter.

The crystal was coming from him, she realized, the crystal trailed from the ceiling, down to the walls and creeping to her legs. The piece of glowing crystal was merely a distraction.

“I’m sorry for this Frieda,” he said, pulling out a small black case from his pocket. A pair of syringes, one is full of translucent blue liquid, the other empty. He lightly flicked the loaded one with clean fingers, dispersing any bubbles. “But I swear, I’m doing this for your own good.”

Her furious scream was muffled. She was betrayed. A traitor to the Crown! To her rule! _What rule? I am no Queen._ He will jeopardize the peace! The Will! Use the power of the Founding! Scream a command! Devour the insurgent!

Frieda couldn’t move her body, encased in crystal as it is. She couldn’t hurt herself to trigger the transformation. Then. Bite her tongue it is.

But Faye moved like lightning, he was behind her in a flash. He left her nape free. Brushing away her long hair, Frieda sensed the pinprick of needle breaching her skin. The liquid got inside her system and it’s spreading, pulling, like an all-powerful magnet-- What is happening? What. Wh— the fog melts away from her eyes. The power she felt the day she devoured her uncle, tremored through her being, drained from her fingertips, from her body, converging to her spine. They all meet in one coordinate; her nape.

Frey breathed out a shuddering sigh. “Okay,” he exhaled, “okay okay, just, hold on, Frieda. One more thing to do, and you’ll be free.”

Clink and snap of something opening and closing. Another cold, pinprick breach. The converging energy screamed out it last desperate struggle within her, they hold on to dear life but to no avail, sucked out completely from her bones, from her veins. Blood rushing. Tears melt in her eyes, the last echo of the King—

They’re gone. Her body was not stiff despite its crystal restraint. She could breathe by herself. There’s no fog shrouding her vision. She could smell the earthy wheat, cold brushing her skin to shake. She felt so vulnerable, so free, so alive.

She is Frieda Reiss again.

The crystal shattered into million pieces, bringing her down to the ground with a startled yelp, stumbling down.

“Sorry. You okay, Fri?”

Frieda looked up to her friend? Betrayer? Savior? Carefully tucking away the case inside his pocket, offering her a hand.

Frieda didn’t take it.

“Wh—What did you _do_? Frey? How—”

Frey bent down, eye-level with her. She tried to scramble back, away from him. But Frey grasped her by her head, firm but not painful. His eyes were like gems, Frieda always envied his beautiful eyes. A bat of his long, dark eyelashes and he’ll have every village girls and boys eating from his palms; no need for a Founding Titan. So close like this, Frieda noticed a faint shimmer of gold from the reflected light, in his otherwise flawless, brilliant green-blue irises.

“My name is Eren Jaeger, but just call me Faye from now on.”

He knocked their foreheads together. A buzz, a blitz of connection opened. Frieda was plunged deep into flashes of memories. Of blood, of war, of deaths, of freedom. Of the _ocean._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **[EDITED]**  
>  This is quite long, I never had experience with writing fics. So tell me whether it's too long to be comfortable or not, so I can pace myself for the future chapters!  
> Unlike what happened in the OVA, I based Isabel's meeting with the rest on the ACWNR manga by Gun Snark and Hikaru Suruga, it's not clear how/when/where exactly Levi took her in, but I adapted it so that they saved her from the human traffickers.  
> Levi said he doesn’t want to deal with smaller Faye running around giving him headaches huh… He jinxed himself. Nothing says true love than murdering people together and burying the corpses as fertilizers for your garden lol.
> 
> This chapter has a LOT of flowers (and a herb). Here are what they represent! (in order of appearance)  
> 1\. Goldenrod - _Strength. To make whole._  
>  A homage to Levi's epithet "humanity's strongest" and the meaning of Levi's name, which means "joining". Goldenrod's other name 'Solidago' comes from the Latin 'soldago' or 'soldare' which means “to strengthen" or "make whole". This, combined with Levi's name, becomes "Joining to make whole" or "Strength in joining", alluding to Levi and Faye joining together and become stronger because of it. (Also a reference to manga ch.72 when Eren said "Great power comes from joining ourselves together")  
> 2\. Dandelion - Surviving challenges and overcoming hardship, healing from physical and emotional wounds. Wish fulfillment (blowing the white puffed seeds).  
> 3\. Gladiolus - _Strength of character. Honor. Conviction._  
>  Symbolizing Faye's need to be acknowledged that he is strong enough to take care of himself, and Levi learning to honor the lives of others especially the ones he took. Levi and Faye burying corpses and planting gladioluses on the grave symbolize their growing strength, Levi, in particular, is learning to honor the dead and building his conviction for his life code.  
> 4\. White Chrysanthemum - _Truth. Hope in dark times_.  
> Faye is divulging a vital truth to Levi (the origin of titans and Eldia, King Fritz's isolating Paradis, the truth about how the walls are built from millions of Eldians turned into Colossal titans).  
> 5\. Hydrangea (purple in particular) - _Gratitude for being understood_.  
> Symbolizing that Faye is grateful for Levi's understanding and willingness to compromise when Faye is trying open up to him as much as he could without jeopardizing his true identity and the messing up the timeline. Used again after Faye comes out to his friends about being a transgender.  
> 6\. Asphodel - _"My regret follows you to the grave."_  
>  Symbolizing Faye's grief and guilt over the death of people fighting for him, against him, and the innocent lives he took, which he still carries.  
> 7\. Poppy - _Sleep. Remembrance. Oblivion. Symbol of veteran._  
>  Faye has been through a war, the memories of it stuck with him, and he can't escape it even in slumber.  
> 8\. Chamomile - _Patience._  
>  Symbolizing that healing needs patience.  
> 9\. Star Anise - _Stops misfortunes. Brings back a lost love._  
>  The trail of star anise leading Levi to Faye, whom he 'lost'. Stopping misfortunes one is obvious.  
> 10\. Wild carrot/Queen Anne's Lace - _Sanctuary._  
>  Symbolizing that Faye provides a safe haven for Levi, and then later symbolizes that he is safe with his friends, since he can trust them with (some) of his sensitive secrets.  
> 11\. Lilac (purple) - _First emotion of love._  
>  The night Levi truly realizes his love for Faye.
> 
> Again, I apologize should there be any mistakes in spellings or grammar. And I apologize if I fail to depict a trans male character realistically, all my knowledge are based on self-research, so please for those who can educate me, feel free to correct me. Thank you for being patient with me! And thank you for your support!


	4. A Bargain Between Beasts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Beware, those who seek to reap glory. Ask not where it lay within reach, friend; for you shall find a beast as fearsome as your frenzied greed. Now, take heed of how to proceed in the bargain between beasts, for to greedily procure glory is to feed your hubris.”_
> 
> Deep within the putrefying womb of the earth, Erwin set off to hunt for treasure: fresh strong wings to aid his revolution. What he didn’t expect was the beast guarding it. A kindred spirit whose hunger for freedom exceeded his. Finding his equal was not as exhilarating at it sounds, for a beast easily recognize another. It was less of hunt and more of a bargain between two monsters of the same kind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. I'm not dead.  
> I am terribly sorry for the sudden hiatus, my laptop caught a virus around January and effectively corrupted all my files :( (I use MS Word because I'm more comfortable using it than Google Doc). Originally, I was going to post this chapter in early February (I said I'm going to post chapters biweekly, college wouldn't allow that *sobs*), but THAT happened. I've spent MONTHS doing everything all over again from the ground up, scraping up the draft for all of the chapters, but the frustration and stress from college (plus tons of assignments, I'm about to face finals too at the end of May) also hindered me, so only a few chapters are managed to have a rough draft. I am SO SORRY for the delay! 
> 
> Enjoy reading!

** 843 **

The sketch was detailed but crude.

Upon a yellow parchment were strokes of ink; sketches depicting a middle-aged man with heavy furrowed brows, sagging cheeks, primly trimmed moustache, and more salt than pepper in his slicked-back receding hairline. The artist focused on the identifiable features but forgoing the aesthetical aspect, rough and uneven inking but almost lifelike. The sketches were captured from various angles, but on the central sketch, the man was facing front from head to bust. His stern sunken eyes stared back from the parchment as if weighing her worth under his weak chin, as typical nobles do. Irritably pompous.

The vaguely familiar expression resurfaced memories of harrowing balls and social events Frieda often attended, as the heir of her family it was unavoidable, mingling and beguiling many individuals similar to this man. Always leaving her drained at the end of the day.

 _“Nicholas Lovof,”_ she drawled the name scrawled beside the bust portrait, in the accent favored by aristocrats within the capital. Flipping to the next paper, she read aloud: _“Head of House Lovof, owning properties and land in western inner Sina, and a major investor of many establishments in Yarckel district. Due to his status and connections, he holds a quite influencing position in the court of Royal Government—”_ she raised her eyebrows at the next paragraph, _“—spearheading a faction opposing the activity of Survey Corps. And so far, he managed to gain enough favor in the parliament to possibly cut off the funding for the expeditions. Hm. I can see why he could be a problem.”_

_“No shit. That stale raisin is closely affiliated with Lang Company; delivering goods for the Military Police, definitely planning to redirect the funds by suspending Survey Corps activities. I had half the mind to dispose of him –discreet enough to pass it off as cardiac arrest, but as fate would have it, he’s the reason Levi even appeared on Erwin’s radar.”_

_“And you suspect that General Darius Zackly already aware of it, but he can’t do anything publically,”_ Humanity’s Strongest would be a pipe dream should Lovof got thrown out of the game early. _“Unfortunately, Lovof’s not a Subject of Ymir. As most nobles are.”_

 _“So, we can’t brainwash him.”_ Her companion sounded a tad dissatisfied. He had the grace to avert his eyes in polite (insincere) regret when Frieda sent him a reproachful glare.

 _“We do not go around mind-controlling people just because we can, Eren. I thought you, of all people, are a fierce advocate for freedom of choice?”_ The very reason he even chose to ally with her instead of just taking the easy way out; devouring her to take the Founding Titan.

 _“‘course I am, it’s just convenient and logical. What is the worth of tools if we do not use them? Anyway, it doesn’t matter, since it won’t work on him.”_ His hand waved dismissively, half-shrugging. Despite his rigid moral codes, Eren could be so... callously violent. Frieda, once mind-connected to him, became acquaintanced with how far he would resort to unethical methods if necessary to attain his goal. _“And I told you, call me Faye. I didn’t spend years getting myself used to this identity just to have it crumbles now.”_

_“Right, right, of course. Sorry.”_

Frieda waited for Eren to finish his tea, he sat awkward upon a fluffy loveseat ornately patterned blue and white to imitate delicate china. It tickled her how his pinky raised all dainty holding a porcelain cup and saucer on the other –out of rebellious mockery at the pretentious setting- when his entire demeanor was all but. He looked out of place with his rugged ensemble of tunic, trousers, and worn boots clad in belts of 3DMG in midst of white laces and pastel satins, floral-pattern wallpapered room. Frieda, his direct contrast with her frilled white blouse tucked into a pleated blue velvet long skirt.

Frieda handpicked the décor herself. It was tasteful despite the overdoing of flowers because it’s _springtime_ , thank you very much, Eren. He doesn’t have the grounds to critique her when he has zero perspicacity for style.

Eren’s face twisted in a grimace after he reached bottoms up, _“Ugh. Too much sugar, it’s more milk than tea.”_

 _“Historia made it.”_ Upon the mention of her name, a girl tucked to Eren’s side raised her golden head from a book she was contently reading. She looked like a tiny doll beside him, stark against Eren’s towering figure and earthly tones in sweet dawn-colored dress Frieda had her wear –with a lot of struggling and cajoling that is, Historia rather disliked her preferred-feminine styles. _“She skipped her playing time outside because she insisted to make you her special tea blend and biscuits.”_

_“I love sugar. Diabetes and cancer can’t kill me.”_

“Why are you both talking like that?” Historia wrinkled her nose, mouth full of her own handmade biscuits. “I still can’t understand those words yet! I wanna talk in old words too!”

Eren brushed crumbs off her chin with his thumb, “How about _not_ talking with your mouth full first, Little Princess? And it’s called Ancient Eldian Language. Frieda already started teaching you, right? You’ll get the hang of it as you learn, don’t worry.” He had switched back to the standard language, his tone softer, fond as he tucked a stray hair behind Historia’s ear. “We talked like this because we’re adults and our talks are so dull and old, you’ll have grey hairs from being so bored.”

Historia giggled, “Faye! You just rhymed, like old bards!”

“I did, didn’t I? That’s what happened when you talk old, you’ll be cursed to speak like a silly poet.”

“We were just talking about how lovely your tea and biscuits are, Babybird,” Frieda cooed, she too, switched back to standard. Historia’s lips pursed at her, a nail-thin crease between her eyebrows told Frieda she’s not falling for her ruse. Ah, how Frieda adored her increasingly sharpening wit, but Historia was a little girl still, one harboring a puppy crush on a particular doctor. “Faye said he can’t get enough of them! Why, he might finish the whole plate all by himself!”

Eren stared at her etiolated, like he just swallowed dry the misshapen, too salty-and-buttery biscuits along with the porcelain cup whole. Historia, however, beamed like a miniature sun vibrating with excitement.

“I still got tons of them in the oven!” she shrieked, bouncing down from the fluffy sofa, rushing to the door. “Don’t worry, Faye! I’ll get you more!”

“Don’t forget the tea, Babybird! Ask Mrs. Lenz to brew it, don’t get near the stove!”

The door snapped shut with a loud boom, Historia’s footsteps rapidly fading. Eren scowled, stretching forth to reach for the plate of stacked biscuits, “ _Now_ I gotta finish them all, you just had to make a scapegoat out of me.”

“Of course. She adores you, it’s just too easy.” She obliged shamelessly, dipping a misshapen butter biscuit into her own milky tea. “Where were we? Oh, right. Then, it seems like we have to postpone our ‘housecleaning’ plan. With you off playing soldier, we can’t have Kenny doing all the work.”

With big gulps of tea, Eren washed down a handful of biscuits he crammed into his mouth. “Kenny can manage them just fine, he did it the first time.”

“But I personally chose _you_ to be my Knight Commander,” Frieda implored, eyeballing Eren who surreptitiously ducked in guise of grabbing another biscuit. “This is not going to be anti-personnel squad Kenny made to fulfill his futile ambition, this is going to be a band of elite soldiers dedicated to protect Paradis under the radar and snuff out conflicts within the Walls. It’s _your_ idea—”

“A harebrained one,” he muttered whilst nibbling on a biscuit. She stampeded through anyway.

“—because we can’t be everywhere at once. This Lovof investigation cost us two months!” she shook the papers in her hand, rippling noisily from the motion. “Even then, we resorted to reach out to Kenny. So we had to induct him into our plans.” He proved to be a great help in the investigation. Who knew Kenny Ackerman could draw?

Frieda wasn’t privy to the details, how Eren swayed Kenny to their side and snuff out his ambition to steal the power of the titan, but the price for it was now the Ackerman patriarch wouldn’t leave Eren alone. He always knew where to be whenever Eren snuck into the estate, often interrogating him in guise of jesting, pestering Eren to accompany him bar-hopping, never hostile but always a nuisance. Which was the reason why they met up in a house in Sina district opposite from the Reiss estate’s, with trustworthy staff, where she moved Historia in. Here, away from their father's grasps, from her cruel birth mother's cold neglect, where Historia now safer and received all the motherly love she deserved. 

Honestly, what's with Eren and his affinity to Ackermans.

She exhaled nearly her entire lungs out. Eren merely stared at her, mindful by quietly letting her deflate from her frustration. Waiting for her verdict. “If only you didn’t attach yourself to that Ackerman, it won’t be so unnecessarily complicated. He’s not the Captain you know anymore, you know that.”

“I’m not attached,” Eren growled, the saucer in his hand whispered an alarming crinkle akin to ice cracking. “ _He’s_ the one attaching to me like a leech.”

“And yet, you let him. For _years_. When you could’ve easily ditched him.” She dared him to challenge the truth. “Even without you, he would’ve survived the Underground long enough to see the surface eventually. _He did it the first time._ Now, because you were distracted _playing house,_ you weren’t able to do your original plan on reducing Scouts casualties in the expeditions outside the Walls.”

It’s been years since the mythical Sentinel showed its nose, all because Eren was so busy digging around Paradis –partially in literal sense– for tools and materials to make the serums, _then_ infiltrated the estate, and _then_ did the dirty work across the country in preparation of their plans. All the while taking care of the little band of misfits. She knew it would’ve cost him less time should there were no such distractions, but Eren, despite his vehement attempt to be otherwise, was sentimental to a fault.

“You think I _didn’t_ try? I tried to push him away for years.”

“Yes, and you surrendered. Becoming a glorified maid at his beck and call,” She rolled the syllables with too much purr, sardonic bite seeping. Unflinching when the teacup and saucer clattered to the table as Eren slammed them upon the white-painted oak, the veins in his hands pulsing.

“I’m _not_ his maid, I stayed because—”

“You felt like his well-being is _your_ responsibility.” She finished for him. Frieda softened her tone, sympathizing. “Noble intent, yes, but inconvenient considering our situation. If you want to _make_ _it_ _up_ to your Captain _,_ stay on the plan and let nothing else distract you.”

Now that he has attachments depended on him, there’s no clawing out of it unless they could be taken care of within a community with a mission and a vision they could get behind, that would distract them from his absence…

“You want me to do what you’ve suggested,” Eren shook out of his humiliation at her dressing-down, though his face still sour. His voice betrayed nothing, as arid as the highnoon wind. “The expedition will be the perfect opportunity for me to disappear, and for the ‘Crystal Titan’ to reemerge.”

“Obviously. And, you can make a symbol out of your little Ackerman in the process,” she added, following his line of thought. “It’ll be a perfect catalyst for him to keep on fighting for the cause; he wouldn’t let your ‘death’ be in vain.”

She recalled from the shared memories, Eren _did_ plant such mindset within Levi Ackerman, whether intentional or not. They will have their Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, as per destined.

The line of his shoulders tensed, eyes glued to his reflection on the cup. “…I don’t plan on making Levi a symbol. I don’t want him to go through such hell again, he won’t be a soldier this time around.”

Frieda placed her cup and saucer on the table, lest she dropped them. “Eren—”

“It’s Faye.”

“ _Faye._ Don’t meddle with the course of fate more than you already have, the consequences will affect history—”

“That’s the point.”

“—and if it diverged from our foreknowledge of it, our plans would be obsolete,” she urged him to look at her, it’s harder to negotiate with Eren if he didn’t give you his full attention. “We’ll have to alter them, and more alteration means more change in the events. We won’t be able to predict them anymore. Our plans depended on what we knew would happen within certain conditions, and one of those conditions is the existence of Humanity’s Strongest. Without him—”

“It doesn’t have to be him.” Finally, he stared back at her. “People just need something they could place their hope on, and the military needs an inspiration for more people to join the cause. To keep the fighting alive.”

“So, you think there’s no need for a ‘strongest soldier’ when there’s already one legend to be revered,” Frieda slowly slumped, reigning back. “Still, you can’t both be soldier and sentinel, one of your identity must die _._ If you don’t sever your attachments, it’ll just get more complicated and we don’t have much time. We only have less than two years left before Marley send the Warriors!”

“Trust me, I have a plan. I don’t know what happened to Isabel and Farlan the first time around, but I’m sure they were dead, leaving Levi with nothing else to hold on to but fighting the titans –and that all went crashing down when the truth’s revealed. I can’t do that to him _again_. I will break my ties with them, but not through death. I can play soldier, fulfill my ‘knightly duties’ to you, _and_ give you the symbol our people want. The main plan will continue as scheduled,” Fire reignited in his brilliant eyes, and she knew he made up his mind. “ _Just leave Levi Ackerman out of it_.”

Her heartbeat jolted when the door swung open, hitting the wall with a _bang_ announcing Historia’s entrance. She hobbled over holding a tray stacked with a cookie jar and steaming teapot, Frieda’s old nursing maid fretting behind her.

“Historia, please, let mother do it—”

“I can do it!” her puffed up cheeks poked behind the tray, stomping determinedly towards Eren. Historia grinned up at him, letting his outstretched hands took the burden from her. “I made you a whole jar! It’ll pair well with jam, Faye!”

“I bet it will,” he answered her with a smile. Even in his typical state of mirthless solemnity, he was already so handsome with his striking coloring and graceful features, but Eren looked younger, sweet like spring day he was born upon, when he smiled genuinely. And he gave them so sparingly. “You did a great job on the biscuits. Though, they’re a little salty.”

“Really? I thought I followed your recipe down perfectly!” she rued as she crawled up to Eren’s lap, pouting like a chipmunk so adorably it tempted Frieda to pinch her cheek. Eren did it in her stead.

“Only practice can make it perfect, Princess. You’re already half-way there –look, not even a single one of them is burnt. On your first try too! Just remember to taste-test first next time.”

“Historia,” Frieda sighed, admonishing, “what did I tell you about entering a room?”

Historia blushed, half-slumping into Eren’s shirt to hide her fluster. “To knock first,” she mumbled, “sorry, big sis.” Instantly, Frieda forgave her, even before she apologized. She couldn’t stay mad at her long.

“My apologies, Your Majesty,” her caretaker said, hands clasped together upon her long apron. Still maintaining her composure despite the initial bluster. “I cannot stop her, she’s very persistent.”

She offered the woman a warm smile. “That’s alright, Teresa. And just call me Frieda, you nursed me since I was a toddler! Or, Lady Reiss, if you feel improper to do so.”

“I also have to go,” with a hand gesture, Eren halted the wizened maid from closing the door behind her. A persistent beeping came from his pocket watch. “Sorry to cut the meeting short, but it’s already time. _The raid is going to start.”_

“You’re going to the sewers again?” Historia complained, Frieda giggled at her apt description, since Eren _is_ taking the sewers to get to the underground city. “But you _just_ got here! You promised you would play Scouts and Titans with me!”

“Next time I visit, we will, I promise.”

Historia harrumphed, crossing her arms, chin high as she sighed like a mother relenting to her child's whining. "Fiiinee. But you'll have to be the titan then! Prepare to be annihilated by the coolest soldier of Survey Corps!"

The lining of Eren's lips quivered, resisting what surely would be a manic snicker. "The coolest soldier is after my nape? Oh nooo. I'm shaking in my boots already."

"At least make an effort to sound like it," Frieda teased, hands on her hips. _“As much as I adore your compassionate side, your sentiment will become your downfall,”_ she warned, though she couldn’t help but felt endeared. The lengths Eren would go for the sake of his mission couldn’t hold a candle to the things he would do in the name of what he held dear –or it’s not incorrect to say the two were the same. _“I don’t agree with erasing ‘Humanity’s Strongest’ out of the equation, but I know I can’t knock sense into your damned thick skull at this point. How will you compromise with Commander Smith? He won’t let your three misfits go so easily.”_

Eren strapped the gears and gas tanks securely to his belts with a practiced motion, “ _That’s part of my plan. I will make a deal with him, I know what he wants, and I have something that he would want. He had seen it before, he can’t turn away my bargain. And, I already prepared the necessary paperwork for my ‘misfits’, just in case I failed to make the preferable outcome. They’re in the last of the stacks I gave you.”_

_“I’m your Queen, not your glorified secretary, Jaeger.”_

_“Could’ve fooled me, you nitpicked worse than my sister.”_

“Stop speaking old! Faye, look at me!” Historia struck out her pinky finger, frowning up disapprovingly at Eren who stood up from the couch to wear his gear. He couldn’t refuse an order from his once-lifetime-ago Queen.

Eren kneeled, twinning his pinky with hers, comically large and calloused compared to her dainty one. He nodded solemnly. “It’s a promise, Your Highness.”

 _“We have to postpone **that** particular meeting too, then.” _Frieda rose with him, swiping his black jacket from the coat hanger. He accepted it gratefully from her hand. _“Be sure you’ll be there, he needs to see you to believe it.”_

_“No. He just needs to see the serum and your words to be convinced. He’s desperate as it is, he would be over the moon to be offered a safer alternative.”_

_“E—Faye, **you** need to see him.”_

_“No I don’t.”_ Eren turned his back on her, halfway slipping into his jacket. _“What am I going to present myself to him? Eren or Faye? We can still collaborate on the project without seeing face to face.”_

_“And make me act as a buffer between the two of you? I will not be a messenger parrot, you **will** see him.”_

_“We’ve discussed this, I **won’t** ,” _Eren emphasized the end with a sharp snap. Faltered, when Historia stared between them with apprehension, averting his gaze from both Reiss’ blue eyes. _“I can’t. Don’t make me, Frieda.”_

“Is everything okay?” Historia croaked, scooting close to tug on Eren’s pant leg. “You sound upset, don’t talk old, Faye. You too, big sis!”

Freida smiles reassuringly, fingers combing her sister’s sun-blessed hair. “Sorry, I guess talking old makes Faye cranky, like an old grandpa. Don’t worry about it, Babybird.”

 _“I’ll be there when you invite him, but I won’t show myself. I will talk to Kenny about dealing with Lovof._ ” Eren kissed the crown of Historia’s head, making the girl flushed apple-red. “I’ll be going now. Don’t trouble Mrs. Lenz too much, listen to your sister, and don’t skip your lessons. Got it, Princess?”

“Yeah, I got it. Big sis said I can learn sword-fighting when I’m older, but you will teach me how to fight with my fists!” she mimed punching the air, grinning. Her words brooked no argument. “Like a knight! I can protect you and big sis then!”

Eren glanced at Frieda, who shrugged. She promised that to Historia because she begged to, after Frieda mentioned Eren’s prowess in fighting, comparing him to the knight in the story she was reading to her. “Sure, we’ll see about that. If you can show me you improved in other lessons, I can teach you how to _defend_ yourself.”

“Got it! You’ll see, Faye! Next time you visit, I can speak old like you and big sis too! We can talk about secret stuff together!” The glint in her eyes and simpering smile spoke too much cunning for both Frieda and Eren to be comfortable with. It seemed like Eren wasn’t the only one who incidentally molded a strong-willed paragon in the making.

Historia yelped when Eren clamped her nose between his fingers, pulling teasingly. “Yeah, you’re gonna be all cranky and rhyming like a weirdo when you do. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I’ll send you a messenger bird later,” Eren’s eyebrows rose at Frieda, Historia mirroring him with series of bewildered blinks.

“So you actually managed to train one. What kind?”

Frieda grinned enigmatically, barely containing her glee. “You’ll know it when you see it.”

Apprehension flits across his face, but it was gone in the next blink. “Alright. Well, I’m off now. Bye-bye, Princess. See you later, Frieda.”

Teresa Lenz dutifully escorted _Faye_ out of the door, while Historia shrieked after him, dogging his footsteps as she pounded her tiny fists to his side, whining at him to at least take the cookie jar. Frieda waved, despite the futility of it.

“ _See you later, Eren.”_

.

Immediately after the elevator descended past the layer of the surface world, his vision momentarily plunged into ink-blots pinching the back of his eyes, as the throat of the entrance sucked out the very sunlight. Blinking away the skull-twisting haze from his sight, the scenery dulled along with it.

The tenebrosity of subterranean ghetto choked Erwin in hospitality.

After the initial disorientation subsided, he took them in from the top of the descending elevator trembling and creaking ominously; curtained by clusters of frigid yellow pale stalactites, arrays of earth-raised buildings sprawled lackluster like old toy blocks, cluttered across the carved telluric womb glowing dimly like a flickering lantern in the dead of the night. Hard to distinguish one brick from another, born of the same clay they were, other than numbers of high towers stabbing through the checkered congeries like needles, they blended well with the rest of the massive cavern.

The arching, jagged ceilings provided an illusion of space, but as they dismounted from the elevator, their boots plodded through grimed cobbled streets cracked with basins of dregs, and the ghetto entrapped them.

The sinuous trails narrowed into a maze of alleyways and stacking stairs, becoming ants cramped between rigid stone and dilapidated brick walls so high, whatever slivers of sunlight managed to slipped through the ceilings were near obsolete. It’s not hard to get lost within –beggars and muggers alike knew it well, either to quietly diminish from existence or to strike quick as a whip from its corners.

The city somber with the perpetual murk overhanging the air. The air, also, warped as they went deeper; a drenching damp cold clamming the skin, gradually weighing down as they mingle along with the stragglers, into a sweltering heat trapped within the hand of sleep. The smothering air carried acrid bile and cloying scum that had Mike burying his nose deep into the folds of his cape as if he intended to become one with the fabric.

It’s not the first time Erwin visited Underground Mitras, but he happened to enter through the sewer passageways the first time around –still wasn’t pleasant to the senses, but was less overwhelming and far more forgiving in its transition to let him adjust. Past through limestone cavern into a cobbled stone tunnel, once one of many sewerage systems long dried out and unused, becoming a sanctuary for those driven out from the surface --that’s when he caught sight of _them_.

“Three approaching at high speed. Close,” raising his chin, Mike sniffed the air, poking out his head from the decoy peddler stall they’re hiding in. “From the west. Flying low and fast,” nose wrinkling, the sleeve of his jacket attempted to wipe away the itching tingle from his nostrils, “hard to pin them down with all those smell in the streets, but it’s the targets. I’m sure.”

“Doing the same old routine, then.” Erwin spied the unwitting merchants loading up crates onto a carriage, stacked high and wide, an easy target to topple. “Intel said the latest raid was a week ago; after the snow melted merchants start trickling in again, supplying the warehouses or mounting cargos to the surface.”

It was a sensible tactic; using the hectic and bustle to strike, the crowd restricted ground movement and cargos piled into a big target. Even now, there’re plenty of merchants, stalls erected, and people mingling in the hub of Underground Mitras. Perfect for another heist, but the interval from the latest was too short. Security hadn’t gone down from its high alert. Too risky.

Coming into the same conclusion as he, Mike’s eyes narrowed. “They’re expecting us.”

“Lovof would’ve warned them, that’s given.”

“And you’re going to let three renegade thugs waltz right into the Corps. How the hell you got Shadis to agree to this whole shitshow, I will never know,” Mike huffed, not quite displeased not quite exasperated; but expectant. He’s the most perceptive of Erwin’s penchant for scheming, gambling with fate like a favorite past time. “I get that it’s more effective to contain them while we deal with their employer, but they’re not going to stay long. Either they’ll mutiny once they found out their deal is off, or they’ll become a titan’s chow.”

“They won’t.” He said, the firm conviction in his tone had Mike’s eyebrows climbing behind his fringe. “There’s nowhere to hide, and they won’t return here if they could help it. They’ll have no choice but to stay with us. Nicholas Lovof would be dealt with, and we’ll have three talented soldiers in our ranks.”

Mike sniffed, head shaking but keeping his eyes on the streets. “Or titan chows. Talent or no, once you’re face to face with a titan, all rationale and skill are thrown out of the window. Their survival relies on how well they persevere and how good the fortune of the stars they’re born under.”

Then, Mike jolted into half-crouch, spreading his legs and squaring his shoulders he pulled the hilts from its holsters a tad harshly. Jerking his head to the arch of a bridge between two rooftops, “Incoming.”

Erwin heard them before he caught sight of them. A cacophony of chaos their harbinger; shouting of pedestrians and peddlers alike a prelude, crashing of wooden crates and startled flutter of tarps follow swift. All manner of rabble tumbling into the open street, ducking and covering their heads as if expecting the very ceiling to collapse on their skulls.

The sight of their fright approached-- faster than expected, zipping through clotheslines at such breakneck speed, a few wrenched free from their clasps, startling both Erwin and Mike as the two figures sailed through the air, over their heads—

The commotion turned out to be a distraction for the merchants, who were panicked by the two to notice another one swan-dived right above them from a rooftop –completely out of Erwin and Mike’s line of sight. That blur of red cast a wire across and shot down, crashing hard _through_ and toppling the cargos like a house of cards. Shattered wooden shells and its contents scattering across the road, akin to sloppily cracked eggs. The other two passed overhead without decelerating.

Erwin wasted no time watching the rest of the raid. He cast out a wire and soared after the three, Mike right behind him. The rest of the squad and their Military Police reinforcement came out of their hiding, following close.

“I didn’t see their gear!” Mike barked, soaring right beside him, “No blade boxes, no—”

“I can’t hear them either, Sir!” came a shout far behind, a young soldier from Mike’s squad, Nanaba. New still and only tasted the battlefield once, survived barely by a rail-thin. She was supposed to alert them from a farther radius, to give them a headstart. “Their wire, I nearly missed them because the wire didn’t—”

“Focus! Do not lose sight of them!” Erwin snapped the sentence short. “They’re all highly skilled, do _not_ underestimate them! Our objective is to disarm and capture them alive, but theirs are not; they will kill if necessary! Be on your guard, soldiers!”

A chorus of “Sir!” raptured around and behind him. Some of the Military Police glanced back –they were taking the lead as per prior arrangement, but Erwin highly doubted that would last.

Before them, their targets suddenly took a sharp turn, two landed and sprinted across a rooftop, doubling back and splitting to different directions. But the last one—

As expected, the Military Police swayed in their flight, falling short and tumbling to the street in undignified heaps. Erwin paid them no mind –they’re faster without the ‘reinforcements’ anyway. He whistled a bird-like thrill, alerting the soldiers on his left to double back and scatter, but throwing a hand sign for Mike to stay close.

Their lone target did not falter, did not look back, even when he and Mike were gaining on him —if the target was who Erwin suspected he is, then surely he would notice. Then without warning, the target slowed down— _no_ , his wires, they’re each embedded to the buildings between the street, then that momentum would— the target sprung backward, they didn’t realize fast enough what the target intended, and soar past him they did.

Erwin twisted midair, just to catch a glimpse of his target, and in a brief window between blinking, they clapped eyes. His lips stretched into a smile. That face --black hair bold against skin sour pale and dead-eyed glare, exactly the same as Erwin first saw him. The man with stolen wings.

The moment evaporated. The man backflipped and zipped to the direction they were from, shifting trajectory and velocity with esoteric finesse, the two of them were hard-pressed to follow his movement, like flying with the gear was an art and he's the virtuoso. Without the chunky blade boxes and bulky gas tanks, he seemed to be truly flying, akin to a sparrowhawk. Effortlessly swift and undoubtedly lethal.

“That’s the one?” Mike asked, slow, as if he’ s been chewing the words for a while and let it marinate, only when the need for stabilization and comprehension outweighed his befuddlement he could finally spew it out, without time to filter out the begrudging awe from his tone. 

Erwin smirked. He proved his point to the nonbeliever. “That’s the one. I told you, he is quite skilled. They all are.”

He told Mike the story; the first time he saw them, he also thought the man truly did fly. On his first time in the Underground, through the sewer passageway, Erwin passed by the caped figures without a second thought. He would’ve missed the spectacle should the fight never broke out. Their capes were long enough to hide the belts from sight, but it couldn’t hide the bulk of the gas canisters and blade boxes, nor could it muffled the rattle associated by walking around with the equipment –but somehow they _modified_ their gear, reduced the additional weight and tweaked the mechanism to be faster.

A chance encounter it was. The man with stolen wings. It wasn’t quite for the ravenous vitality within the depths of his eyes, or the ruthless efficiency he defeated men twice his size which had entertained Erwin it might worth a try to capture the specimen. No. It was the manner of _how_ exactly he flew that roiled his mind with a hunger to _know_.

From the brief encounter, and the cape hiding most of his body, Erwin didn’t get a proper look at how exactly the gear was modified. Only the engineers under watchful eyes of the government knew the intricacy of 3DMG manufacture and designs, a secret guarded as jealously as the royal treasury. A death sentence would be swift upon those who tinkered with it. However, it was clear to Erwin: any man able to match the prowess of his kin in arms is a potential pawn –an addition to the ever-dwindling troops. But a man with virtuous knowledge and skill of both a fighter and an engineer is a valuable asset he must covet.

Not only that. Right when the man escaped the scene of carnage, a pair soared along with him, vibrant with each wheat-yellow and garnet-red crowns, shadows his every move as if beckoned by a disembodied call, willingly, unwavering. With their mismatched hair –black, red, and gold, they seemed like colorful plumage of exotic birds, glittering like jewels within the dim tunnel. The man commanded loyalty from others of equal formidable skills. Capturing one meant gaining three.

Erwin would not let them slip from his grasp.

The target swooped unnervingly low, nearly scraping the ground, then disappeared from view as he swung into a narrow backstreet. Trying to lose them, then.

“You take the high ground, I’ll take low. Most of those buildings are empty, crash through them if you must.”

Mike nodded, separating from him to climb higher, into the rooftops. Erwin swung low, speeding into another alleyway. The buildings might seem cluttered, but the alleys actually interwoven, purposely designed so that residences could take any intersections and still would be able to return where they came from without doubling back with many alternate routes to choose from –the slums was a treacherous labyrinth to entrap tourists and convenience the native. Erwin spent a week studying maps and street grids of the Underground layout he could get his hands on, narrowed down the location, and instructed his squad to herd the targets so they wouldn’t stray beyond two blocks at worst.

He landed in a tight back alley and took off into a sprint, looking up expecting the target to— and indeed, from the third story glassless window, the target leaped out. He seemed genuinely surprised to find Erwin down here, flying up to intercept his descent. He recovered quick and whizzed out of Erwin’s sword range, into the walkway between two buildings in front of him.

Erwin perched on the roof where he embedded his wire, squinting to look through the dimly-lit alley for the back of the target swiftly going further away. A blur of green fluttering above the buildings, he smiled to himself; Mike didn’t need maps to memorize, when he could track his prey from scent alone.

Shooting another wire, he ascended to higher ground, intending to tread the rooftops so he could execute a surprise attack from above. He could hear loud rackets of crumbling like a miniature avalanche up ahead, rattling of wooden crates tumbling, crashing against the ground. Mike must’ve already engaged the target. Erwin sprinted across the flat roof, boots kicking up dust—

Faltering, when another sound of whizzing cable whipped the air overhead, high above from his left. Erwin only managed to catch a glimpse of silhouette flipping midair, before a sharp burst and crackling snap crumbled a patch of the ground on his right. A metal hook hairbreadth away from being embedded to his nose if his instinct didn’t yank his body to slide down on time, elbow scrapping coarse bricks, cloud of dust becoming a choking smokescreen.

He couldn’t see the enemy, only catching a thump of boots landing behind him. He stumbled back to his feet, disoriented, but he forced himself to stagger and _run_.

For the first time since this operation began, his heart kicked his rib so sudden he would’ve hiccupped if he were a lesser man. The other two targets were supposed to be on the opposite side of the block, on a different route each, herded by his and Mike’s squad. They couldn’t have strayed away, and if they did they would’ve been already caught. 

The pursuer didn’t pause, seemingly landed in a bounce and hit the ground running. Rapid, heavy footsteps. Either a bigger bulk or taller stature, but they're fast, already gaining on Erwin. But the fright was not over. He made of mistake –or perhaps a miracle– of looking back, finding a sole of heavy booted leg swinging right towards his left cheekbone.

Erwin ducked on time. The leg swiped strands of his hair loose. The force of the kick whipped away the stinging cloud dust, within the moment of brief clarity, Erwin saw a glimpse of eyes so vibrant it stood bold against the grubby tan dust. Wide unblinking, meeting his as if they knew how tall he is.

The predator –for there were no other words his mind latched onto, once he saw those eyes– dropped and whipped Erwin off his feet with a low sweeping kick, only by pure reflex he rolled off the ground before the predator could pounce him where he landed.

The sweeping kick resurrected the dust to obscure the visual. At the sound of boots thumping loud as it got closer, Erwin scrambled back, onto his feet. Immediately forced to dodge and defend against an onslaught of heavy punches materializing seemingly out of the dust itself. They struggled against each other. His opponent was hellbent on disarming his swords away, which always met clanging, shrieking, against a glossy white knuckle duster impressively bearing the strength of Ultrahard Steel, swatting his swings with brutal nonchalance.

Erwin couldn’t keep holding up against a disembodied opponent. He ducked from an elbow aiming for his nose, scooped a fistful of powdered clay of the roof and threw them where he deduced his opponent’s face would be.

A shout uncomfortably thundering, almost roar-like, burst out of the roiling sandy mist, coughing fit followed.

Erwin could only focused on getting out of the smokescreen, out of range. A brush of grasping fingers against his cape pumped his feet to jump off the ledge, nosedived right into the open square, finding both Mike and the target locked, swords pushing against a meager knife, impressively holding.

Mike pushed hard enough to throw off the man and jumped back for Erwin to intercept the thrust of a knife. Sparks fly and metal screech, he grunted at the surprising strength ramming against his. “Mike! There’s another one on the roof!”

Halfway through his sentence, Mike went flying right into an empty stall on the far corner, crashing with a pained shout. The face of the man locking his knife against Erwin’s sword twitched almost into a thin smirk, he let Erwin pushed him with an almighty heave, somersaulted backward in the air from the swing of his sword and retaliate with a kick square on Erwin’s chest.

Erwin didn’t curse, but it was a near thing, as he stumbled back and narrowly dodged arms swiping from behind, that would surely lock his head into a smothering strangle. He rolled away right into the front of a crumpled stall Mike only just pulling himself out of.

Mike growled, advancing past Erwin, baring teeth at the man who threw him. The mysterious third-party narrowed and lowered his stance, arms raised, hands balled into fists, almost hiding his face from view as he hunched slightly –not to cower, but to anticipate.

Mike lunged, and instantly grunted in a smothered choke as he crumpled from an unsuspecting kick to his leg mid-step, throwing him off balance. Vulnerable in his stumble, the man seized Mike’s arm, grappled him by the neck without pause, then threw a kick behind the kneecap that swept him clear off the ground swinging.

Erwin barely got out of the way where Mike landed on his back, head over heels, only a step away from the stall he was thrown into before. Coughing, rolling back on his four, trembling and favoring one side to lean, staying prostrated like it pained him to even kneel.

Erwin took a stand in front of Mike, blades drawn, but didn’t make a move to attack. The enemy's a wild card and a highly skilled one strong enough to take down someone as big as Mike, the strongest soldier of the Corps, without breaking a sweat. Breathing erratically hard, his throat scratchy from the dust inhaled. He forced himself to hear out of his air-densed eardrums, the voice of the predator stalking closer to where they are cornered.

“I warned you not to underestimate them; they got you under a minute. All of you owe me a twenty, each.”

“You didn’t warn me I’m going against a two-meter class blond brickhouse titan. The hell you’ve been doing?”

Wheezing, into his fist the taller man let out a cough, gust of thick dust came out of his mouth, eliciting a disgusted scowl from the other. “Eating dust, apparently.”

The newcomer was as tall as Erwin, hard-muscled but lean under his long black jacket and olive-green tunic, skin golden tan --a strange sight in place scarce of sunlight, with long brown hair tied in a bun. Side by side, he and the target were striking in the antithetical image they presented.

One burly yet short while the other slender yet tall, pale and tan, low rugged drawl and high smooth snap, glowering and tranquil. Even the way they dress opposed each other; the shorter man meticulous in his button-up, vest, and bold red scarf. But the space they filled didn’t clash, it’s like they exist together comforted instead of challenged by the other’s contrast, reveling in their contradiction. Erwin found this intriguing, his vigilance increased –both are opposite in every way, which made them unanimously powerful united, bringing strength to fill what the other lack.

However marginally safe distance maintained between them, Erwin could still see, what he’d hungrily curious for; the modified gear.

No longer weighed by the bulk of boxy blade sheaths hung horizontal from the hips, the gas canisters now ran parallel with the thighs, slimmer and compact but enough to store gas worth a whole day. Visible extra belts for the legs and additional knee support that served as the gas canister’s holsters. Now, if only he could see what they did to the core…

The taller one --Erwin’s near-killer— turned to appraise them with his vibrant, wide eyes, frowning.

“What stars were you born under to have such luck, Levi?” he muttered, peeling off one of the glossy knuckle dusters to let his fingers stretched, clenching and unclenching. “You’ve got two high-ranking officers going after you. That one,” he pointed right at Erwin, mouth opened but closed again from inner conflict, like he’s swallowing back a thought before he could verbally realize them, “…made me swallowed a mouthful of dust. I want that one.”

Erwin clutched his swords tighter. The man recognized they are officers, not mere foot soldiers. The way he spoke also, was far less coarse than his brusque companion, formal; the kind you would expect upper-class Sina resident would speak, but his accent was closer to the outer wall regions’. A bit off-key too, like someone born and bred in a countryside forcing himself to habitually speak in standard dialect –Erwin often heard this from new recruits as they had required to learn as a trainee, and from his own experience familiarizing with the standard in his boyhood school.

Could he be a soldier –a recruit, perhaps– who deserted? That would explain how three Underground criminals could master the 3DMG and modified them as desired.

“That so? Then, no,” the other – _Levi,_ the name correlating with the info from Erwin’s intel– said tartly, stepping right beside his partner, twirling his knife into a reverse grip. Eyes fixed on Erwin also. “You deal with the moustache titan over there. I’ll take on Captain Prissy Hair.”

“I thought you would like making it even with the taller one? He nearly flattened you, why--”

“His eyebrows are ugly as sin. I wanna shave ‘em off.”

Erwin felt his aforementioned eyebrow twitched, he drowned his irritation before it could get anywhere near to surface. If he had a penny for each time he heard such insult, expedition funds would be the last thing on his (and Shadis’) mind.

The taller of the two made a half-snort, half-choking noise from his mouth, smothering it with his hand. “Fuck. Don’t make me laugh, it ruins the whole ‘deadpan badass thug’ thing I’m going for.”

“Nobody asked you to do that, worm hermit.”

“Now, let’s not resort into a fight again so fast, gentlemen,” he took a risk sheathing one sword. Holding up an open palm, Erwin stepped forward. Face betraying nothing but his forehead and nape were uncomfortably cool and damp. “We wish to talk civilly.”

Levi scoffed, “ _Civilly?_ In _Underground_? You came to the wrong place, Eyebrows. None of you act so civil when your scruffier twin over there nearly broke my ribs.”

Erwin refocused on the other, however; the taller one, who still appraised both him and Mike with a look that elicited a feeling of an ant being scrutinized under a magnifying glass, waiting helplessly to be scorched while the holder waiting gleefully for it to happen. His head tilted slightly, arms slackened on both sides tucked into the pockets of his jacket; not cautious like he’s waiting for one of them to attack, rather, attentive. He’s expecting something, from Erwin especially, as their eyes met and lingered. 

He’s the one more likely open to negotiation, and from how Levi readily geared up to take Erwin on for a perceived harm to the man, he's the very key Erwin needed to gain the wings of revolution he came here for. Although, if he was indeed a soldier, it’ll be trickier to convince him. Not only because of his reason to desert in the first place, but also the punishment that came with it. Erwin would have to pull some strings, but for now, he must reason with this nameless man.

However, it’s Mike that spoke up first.

“Those gears, you stole them,” Levi’s expression turned even flatter, eyes rolling. “Using them illegally already dumps you into hot waters, but _tinkering_ with the design of a property protected by the King’s jurisdiction himself –you’re lucky the Interior Police themselves didn’t come down here to erase you.”

At that, Levi tensed, his jaw tightened and eyebrows knitted –possibly thinking about flaying them alive on the spot and booked it. Erwin felt himself mirroring him, as the sour memories long-past resurfaced again. It’s an unspoken knowledge to those who skirted the edge of law that Military Police was a joke but the Interior Police was not a laughing matter; not just for criminals, but especially common folk –who were oblivious to the repercussions. People rumored to have abruptly relocated without further news, or found dead from suspicious accidents often times shared something in common. Knowing too much. Possession of illegal books, preaching heretical beliefs, or they’re a skilled engineer too brilliant for their own good. He should know –he learned firsthand, and his father paid for his blunder. Levi could be next, if Erwin didn’t succeed recruiting him and his accomplices.

But the taller one, however, did not once look away from Erwin –who belatedly realized the man was reading him through his reaction, through how Erwin eyed their gear and Levi.

“And they sent _Scouts_ to arrest us…?” The man smirked, the kind that chilled your spine with regret of ever seeing it. He’s sending a message with his mirth. He knew what Erwin was after. “Are we such a daunting nuisance to put down, they need the battle-hardened soldiers to subdue us? The Interior Police could _erase_ us in our sleep, but _you…_ ” his eyes so vivid, greener than damp grass, edging to blue, piercing Erwin with their intensity, “…have an agenda.”

Well. The jig is up. “We wish to offer you a deal,” Erwin conceded, slowly, straightening up his posture to be eye-level with the taller man. “Your service, in exchange of avoiding the penalty of your crimes.”

“But that’s not all, is it?” His fingers tinkling the metal canister strapped to his thigh, subtly posing in an angle that let him show off a hint of the gear’s core. He’s playing along. It rattled something within Erwin; that he found a beast of his kind when he came down here to hunt, and now he’s no longer the only player on the board. No longer the hunter, as he found himself being hunted.

“You’re in no position to make deals with us,” Levi declared, somehow looking down at them with chin tilted up. Jabbing the air with his knife to drive a point. “We got you cornered. We ain't bargaining with trapped pigs squealing for mercy, we slaughter and shit out your remains.”

“Then,” behind him, Mike shuffled to a crouch, “We’ll take you by force!”

The taller man delivered a roundhouse to a charging Mike, but Mike anticipated it, blocking it with his arm. He took hold of the man’s leg and _swung._ Throwing him right towards his partner.

Levi ducked, the taller one flew over his head, screaming unintelligible curse, crashing into an erected stall full of empty barrels stacked on the other side. Levi snarled, rushing at Mike, driving his knife so hard against Mike’s defending blade, it _snapped_ with a sickening shriek. Levi kicked his kneecap, crumpling Mike but he lunged at Levi’s stomach, intending to drive them to a wall.

However, Levi grabbed hold of Mike’s head and kneed him repeatedly until Mike threw him off. Mike threw a punch, Levi caught it and twist Mike’s arm to make him bend down to relieve the pressure, which Levi took advantage of; one leg straddled Mike’s back, he climbed up and locked his leg around Mike’s head. Levi threw himself back, using all of his weight and manipulating Mike’s to take them both down. Mike sailed overhead, back hitting the ground with a loud thump while Levi rolled off the throw, crouched, already dashing with a knife in hand. To his credit, Mike recovered quick, jumping to his feet parrying the knife with his sword before it could cut across his thorax.

Erwin ran towards the wrestling men, intending to help Mike wrench off his assailant. He looked up just in time to avoid a barrel sailing towards his head. The man with vivid eyes was quick to recover, already charging at him with a wooden pole brandished from the wreckage.

Erwin met it with his sword, but the pole wasn’t meant to attack, it’s to disarm him. The pole thrust under his crossed blades, striking his stomach, making Erwin choked on a breathless gasp. It hit under his elbow, jarring tremor shot through his nerves, forcing his fist to unclench his grip on the blade. Again it struck, numbing his opposite shoulder down to his arm.

The man was fast and his fighting technique obviously superior to Erwin’s, he couldn’t win this fight fairly. Impulsively, he took a risk. He pulled the trigger that unclasped his blade from its hilt, when the pole struck next, it went sailing, spinning somewhere to his right. Erwin let the boot-clad leg swept him off his feet, dropping to the ground in a sloppy heap. The foot kicked his remaining sword away from his reach, Erwin braced himself for another hit. But the feet in the field of his vision spun on their heels and jogged away.

He lolled his head to peek behind him. Mike doing well holding against the shorter of the two, but Levi didn’t show a sign of exhaustion. His attacks relentless, dodging Mike’s with feats of acrobatics. Every time Mike knocked his knife from one hand, the other quickly swiped it back from the air, striking again like he had a dozen extra arms. The taller one advanced behind Mike, like a tiger creeping, pole raised on both hands like he’s about to nail Mike’s head with a pickaxe.

Erwin rolled to his side, then, pulled the trigger to cast his wire. The hook snapped right into the pole, right under the man’s arm. Erwin reeled back his wire. The pole slapped the man’s cheek as it wrenched off his grip, sailing behind him. Erwin caught it.

The man staggered as he turned, but Erwin swiped his legs with the pole. The man went down with a yelp. Although he quickly climbed back on his feet, Erwin wrenched a fistful of his tied up hair, knocking him down again with a kick to the back of his knee.

“Stay down!” Erwin snapped, his other hand holding the wooden pole against the man’s neck, whose arms raised, clutching Erwin’s hold to lessen the pain on his scalp. Erwin hauled him, dragging the man screaming by his hair. “Cease at once!”

Levi let out a fierce cry. He grappled Mike, throwing him over his shoulder, almost landing on Erwin if he didn’t drag both of them to the side, the man yowling in his hold. Levi twisted, eyes wide and teeth clenched, scrambling towards them with a knife drawn—

**“I had him!”**

The rumble of the roar shook Erwin’s ribs, his heartbeat skipped. Something primal and unnamable within him cowered, distracting him enough to let the man clenched both his hands around his grip on the clump of hair, like talons. Then the man twisted underneath the pole, twisted around him. The pole clattered to the ground. Erwin howled, strained from pain as his right arm is twisted, pulled back, the force strong enough to nearly wrenched it off from its socket. 

“Don’t,” a low, heavy growl behind his ear raised goosebumps along Erwin’s nape. He could hear the bones of his arm crackling, the grip around his forearm stopping the flow of blood. “Fucking. Pull. Me. Around.”

His heart seized. He's disarmed, helpless. Right before him, Levi stalked forth with a knife drawn. The look on those sharp eyes promised pain of being skinned alive.

Levi’s eyes widened when suddenly, the twisting barb-like pain around Erwin’s arm was wrenched free. Splutter of expletives accompanied a pair of legs swinging frantically in the air, Erwin turned to find Mike heaving the man bodily, completely off the ground. With a roar, Mike bent backward, slamming the man to the ground head first. His scream cut off.

Erwin jumped back, as Levi shouted, enraged: “Bastards!”

“Stop!” Levi halted, seeing Mike pressing the sharp edge of his sword against the taller man’s neck –who’s impressively still conscious, just irked beyond belief, glaring balefully at Erwin behind his tousled long hair. “Not another step, or I’ll cut his head off!”

A ruckus of movement shifted Erwin’s focus, one of his soldiers rounded the corner. He would’ve sighed in relief if he could.

“Take a look around you,” he implored. Levi turned his head at a shout. A girl in pigtails struggled noisily in the hold of the soldier restraining her. Another, a lanky tall blond man followed, subdued in his restraints, then he looked up, blanching at what he’s seeing. While he kept his mouth shut, the girl cried out, vacillating between disbelief and dismay.

“No way! They actually lost?! _Together?!_ Damn it all! You bastard, let ‘im go!”

The blond shushed her. “Don’t waste your breath, Isabel.”

“Farlan! You can’t be serious! They—”

 _Farlan. Isabel._ Erwin burned the names and faces into his mind, turning to look back at the man in front of him. _Levi._ And finally, the enigmatic fourth. Who knocked off his plans from its axis with his mere presence. Erwin didn’t anticipate a fourth member. He couldn’t be a new addition, since Levi regarded him so familiarly, working together like they’re one entity. The girl also hinted of their notoriety together.

They really did a number on him and Mike. That was the most harrowing fight he’s even been on, not counting the fight outside the Walls, too many instances of bodies flying –Mike's going to be sore for days. Erwin couldn’t help but be impressed at the vivid-eyed man’s tenacity and endurance; he’s only slightly winded after a possible concussion from the last throw. Though, he didn’t look like a man concussed, if anything, he looked like a man being mildly inconvenienced by the sword under his chin.

It bothered him that his intel missed this. It’s likely that this fourth member wasn’t as active as the rest, or keeping a low profile and tasked with more discreet jobs. Perhaps, assassinations. Always going for pressure points, knowing where to strike without permanently damaging –which meant he knew could. His techniques were meant to subdue quick, with such strength he demonstrated, his kicks could snap ligament off a joint and dent a skull. When he brought down Erwin with his pole, he could've done the latter with a single blow.

So, why didn’t he? 

Levi’s eyes shifted from the girl and the blond, to be glued at the man in Mike’s mercy, his eyes gleaming like the knife in his shaking fist, as if he deluded to flay the skin off of Mike’s arm with his gaze. His partner stared back, they held an entire conversation with their eyes alone. Erwin’s eyes squinted, switching back and forth from the man to Levi. It seemed like it’s not merely a partnership of mutual benefit. It runs deeper. 

Finally, Levi dropped his knife, holding up his arms with palms open, glaring at Erwin.

Erwin simply smiled. “You’re quick at reading the situation.”

“Section Commander! Captain!” Nanaba called out, pulling on the restraint of that Isabel girl, making her snarled low but begrudgingly followed, “Are you both alright?”

“Yes, you all did well. Strip off their gears and restrain these two, soldiers.”

Mike swiftly snapped close the shackles on the fourth member’s hands behind him, taking off his knuckle dusters and harnesses –with frustrating difficulty, since a lot of it was changed to accommodate the modified gear, and the buckles were also changed.

The nameless man sighed. In an impressive feat of flexibility, he jumped through his bound arms like jumping rope, now they're in front of him again. Mike nearly slammed him again to the ground, if he didn’t hold up his hands in time.

“I’m _not_ trying anything. You got us all had. Let me just—” he brushed away his long hair from his face. Then, he twisted the circular metal acting as the buckle of the belt across his chest, two times to the left and once to the right, then he pressed the center, an audible _click_ was heard _._

The entire harness loosened like heated rubber, it all fell to the ground in heap. He kicked them at bewildered Mike, scrambling to catch them.

The man gave Mike a flat look. “There. Happy?”

He calmly, almost primly, bend down onto his knees, waiting for the judgment like it’s _his_ choice to receive them. Like he’s doing them a generous favor by cooperating. Perhaps he is.

Erwin shook away the nagging anxiety that thought fed. Striding forward to restrain Levi with the cuffs, making sure he kicked away the discarded knife from reach. He twisted the circular mechanism locking the harness together, as exampled. It worked almost like a dial lock for safes, he found. It piqued his curiosity on how exactly they came up with it.

The soldiers had the four kneeling in a row, putting a considerable distance between each. While Erwin inspected their confiscated belongings and 3DMGs. Finally, he could inspect the apparatus proper.

The core was completely overhauled; the shape no longer a single-cylinder barrel, rather, the two wire axes were separated and exposed, connected by the core device, where the propeller fan and emission system installed. He suspected the black box was also upgraded, from how the wires were cast smoother, muted. The gear, in entirety, was lighter, more aerodynamic, and as they’ve observed, near ghost-quiet. The reduced bulk provides better mobility, increased speed, and the landing would be less painful if they fell wearing the gear. The upgraded harnesses also provided easier use, easier time getting out of them without sacrificing the safety measures.

It’s a marvel to behold. Erwin shifted his gaze and found Mike, along with the rest of the soldiers, staring with similar wonder. Glued with fascination and anxiety, for the fact that such invention was within the hands of lawless gangsters, using them as tools to plunder instead of improving their condition as a society through dispatching their glaring, _giant_ _pest_ problems outside the walls.

Erwin composed himself, taking a well-deserved deep, quiet breath. Before turning to face the apprehended criminals.

“I have some questions to ask you.” He stepped forward, raising the confiscated 3DMG core into view. “Where did you get your hands on these?”

No answers. The four were cemented in various states of silence. Stubbornly, warily, seethingly, and calmly. 

Not to be deterred, Erwin continued on. “Your 3D Maneuver skill was excellent. Who taught you?”

Not a twitch. Erwin spied from the tail of his eyes, the nameless man didn’t fidget, his expression impassive behind his cascading long hair, once again falling onto his face. He was hoping the man would drop another hint to unveil the mystery, the oddity of his speech wasn’t nearly enough to cement Erwin’s speculation he was once a soldier, therefore, responsible for the other three’s maneuvering skill.

His eyes met Mike’s, who nodded, slowly treading behind the other three as Erwin approached, stopping right before Levi. “You are their leader, correct? Were you trained in the military before?” The man didn’t grace him answers, only a defiant silence beneath a veneer of dark glare. 

Erwin offered him a bland smile, “That is the look of a man who wants to kill me and escape,” he stated lightly. He was convinced the nameless one was the one who taught them, but he knew he wouldn’t get an answer from a man who reacted so violently at being manhandled. Mike now stood right behind Levi like a looming monolith. The nameless man finally reacted, head turned, meeting Erwin’s expectant stare. “I’d like to avoid any more rough treatment if I can…”

Fingers gripped Levi’s hair to the scalp, yanking his head back. With a grunt, Mike slammed his face right into a puddle of muck.

Both the blond and the girl each gasped in alarm and cried out a protest, Isabel cursing out everyone who could hear her while the other gritted his teeth. The nameless one, however, didn’t look away from Erwin’s eyes. He remained composed, waiting for Erwin’s next move.

Levi grunted, snarling from his throat, struggling beneath Mike’s grasp to turn his head enough to look up. If possible, his stare was more scorching. Deadly in its vigor for blood.

“I ask again, who taught you—”

“Nobody!” Isabel roared, her hair bristled like an angry mutt. “We didn’t learn it from anyone! You think we’re gonna let a _civil servant_ pushes us around?!”

“Self-taught? I don’t buy it.”

“We figured it out ourselves,” the blond—Farlan, chimed in. He's far more composed, but his hostility leaked from his grinding teeth. “So we could survive in this dump! Anyone who doesn’t know what sewage taste like couldn’t understand.”

“Enough! Let big bro go, you damned scruffy titan!” 

The puddle starts frothing from Levi’s struggling growls, Mike yanked him up at Erwin’s signal. He choked and gasped, coughing out water. Levi snarled out a spit at Erwin’s boot.

“I applaud your determination,” Erwin said flatly. “But keep it up, and we’ll move on to your comrades.”

He turned to the nameless man, who remained impassive. No malice, no anxiety, not even sympathy for his leader. Or could it be… he's the true leader?

Erwin approached the fourth member, who seemed to be expecting it. Levi struggled in his bond, head still clutched by Mike’s rough grip to keep him still. “Bastard!” Erwin heed not his goading, “If you touch him—”

He had to crouch to be eye-level with the man, who didn’t raise his head for Erwin, imploring him to kneel.

“What is your name?”

“How rude,” his voice indeed carried a tinge of border district’s accent. Erwin couldn’t quite pinpointed where, it’s distinctively southern, but there’s something peculiar in the way he expelled his syllables. “Were you raised in the gutter? It’s only polite to give your name first. Where are your manners, Sir?”

“You are in no position to talk back.”

“And yet, you’re in a position where you need my cooperation to seek answers you want. Not ounce of decorum, you’re not getting any more respect from us than you already lack.”

Erwin met the challenge. Rising back, he signaled to his soldiers. “None of you will give it nonetheless. The language people speak down here is violence, is it not?” His soldiers moved in unison, their blades were drawn right under the chins of the three criminals. “Keep up with your attitude, and your comrades will be given the proper decorum.”

“If you gonna do it, do it!” the girl proved to be either brave or impulsive. Well, that could pose a slight problem, but the training might curb the recklessness. It wouldn’t do to have a hot-headed, renegade soldier loose in the expedition.

The man scoffed, suppressing a sardonic laugh. “You wouldn’t do it,” climbing onto his feet, he once again eye-level with Erwin. The remaining soldiers drew their blades, stalking closer, but hesitant, wary. They’re too far from reach, and this man now practically nose-to-nose with Erwin. “You came down here for _us._ Hunting us down one by one, asking about our skills, our names… You’re not gonna waste all that effort just to kill potential _recruits._ ”

He's a couple of inches shorter than Erwin, but his demeanor created an illusion as if he’s looming over him. From the corner of his vision, Mike grew agitated at the dwindling space between them. “The Corps won’t expend their already limited resources just to catch criminals, and the Military Police with a stick up their pompous asses wouldn’t reach out to other military branches. How could they let people know four petty thugs robbed 3DMGs under their noses? They let us wreak havoc for so long because it’s better to contain us in the Underground. But I’m betting my entire life savings, you’re just _drooling_ to get your hands on our ‘wasted potential’.”

“The Survey Corps is _desperate.”_ The low drawl crawled up Erwin’s spine. But Erwin held himself steadfast against the acidic color of those vibrant eyes. “Every time the Corps went outside the walls, they came back with less than they went. Your resources keep dwindling, the death toll ever-rising, and fresh recruit interest ever-decreasing. You’re scrapping for funding from increasingly displeased brass, not to mention the public opinion of the expeditions. Scouts are considered nothing but leeches, wasting away taxes the people have _so-oh-generously_ given for so many years… Yet, you barely dented the number of titans, not even an inch closer to the truth of their origins.”

The man gestured to his comrades, the girl, in particular, is carrying the air of muted smug. Soldiers holding them hostage grew tense like a string drew taut. Some shaking, either in agitation or rage, for the man’s words were vine of thorns weaving around their offered hearts. “That, is nothing but an empty threat. So, let us skip this nonsense and just straight to business, shall we, _Section Commander?”_

The urge to tremble was great. The situation no longer in his control. He would berate himself for lowering his guard once the targets are confined. He's dealing with an equal, someone as ruthless and calculating as he is. The man stepped back, enough for Erwin let out a quiet exhale.

“I am Section Commander Smith. Erwin Smith of the Survey Corps,” he offered, a proverbial olive branch.

“Faye.” The man acknowledged in a detached manner. “Call me Faye. You said you want to offer us a deal?”

Erwin nodded. “We will… _overlook_ your crimes, you and your accomplices will not be charged with punishment –in exchange, you will lend me your strength, and join the Survey Corps.”

Faye –finally, a name to attach the man with– hummed, head shaking, “It’s not my call.” He jerked his head to the drenched, crouching man, still glowering at Erwin. “It’s his.”

“You answer to him?” Erwin raised both eyebrows. So Levi _is_ the leader. But then, what does that make him?

“I am _right here,_ ” Levi snarled, shrugging off Mike’s hold on his shoulder. He begrudgingly relieved his sword from Levi’s neck, letting him stand up, but keeping vigil right behind him, ready to subdue if necessary. Levi stepped forward while Faye retreated, flanking to his partner’s side like a guard. The shorter man shouldered past the other, half-shielding him to effectively cutting off Erwin from direct contact with Faye. “What if we refuse, huh?”

“Then I will turn you over to the Military Police,” the threat bore little significance compared to Faye’s verbal tear down, and they knew it. The said man politely averted his gaze, suppressing any reaction, but that somehow made it insulting. “Considering your crimes, I don’t think you or your comrades can expect a decent treatment. And,” he added, “the chance for any of you seeing the surface becomes more unlikely.”

He could lord that over their heads at least. There’s nothing else Underground dwellers craved than escaping this glorified tomb, escaping the inevitable rot. To taste the open air, to bathe in clean sunlight, to truly _live_.

The pair exchanged conversation within their gaze. Levi peeked behind him, catching the blond—Farlan’s own meaningful look. They’re not even that subtle, Erwin despaired internally, who were they fooling. It seemed like Faye shared his sentiment, as he and Erwin clapped eyes, Erwin found a mirror of his own watered-down exasperation.

“Very well,” Levi gritted out between his teeth. “We’ll join the Survey Corps.”

Erwin nodded, offering him a polite smile. “Then we have reached an agreement. For the time being, none of you are allowed to roam beyond the headquarters, call it a… probation. You will be under scrutiny, so please, do behave yourselves. Once you are deemed trustworthy by the Commander and the brass, you will be allowed a shore leave after the expeditions like other soldiers.”

“Understandable,” Faye halted Levi before any words could leave his mouth, hand grasping his shoulder to ground him as Faye took a step out of Levi's shield. “We _did_ join through such unconventional means, and due to our backgrounds, you have all the reasons to distrust us. But we will fulfill our duty as we accepted the Wings of Freedom.”

Then, with a powerful clang, Faye separated his hands. The metal bar of his shackles _snapped_ with the force of his strength. A faint hint of a smile twitched on his lips, at the fear washing over the soldiers like a flood of icy water, some yelled curses in terror, even Erwin barely stopped from reflexively stepping back. But to his and everyone else’s surprise, the man didn’t lunge to attack. He straightened his stance, demonstrating a perfect salute. His fists firmly thumped his heart and spleen from the back, proudly so. “At your command, Sir.”

Erwin answered the salute with his own, a slight jerky from shock of such display of strength. “At ease, soldier.” Faye complied. It becomes more and more likely he was a soldier before, from the look of his companions, they’re unaware of it.

“Could’ve waited for the key, show-off,” Farlan muttered as he is being helped back on his feet by Erwin’s soldier. While Isabel cackled, a touch hysterical. Levi, on the other hand, turned his cheek away, gazing at a non-descript wall with knitted eyebrows and clenched jaw. Ire at Faye for taking charge when he's the leader of their group perhaps?

No.

Faye was protecting Levi with how he acted. Erwin almost smirked. The show of strength was a threat. He could almost hear it; _I don’t appreciate your manhandling of my pal here_ , the thin polite smile sent his way seemed to say, _do it again and your spine will meet the same end as these shackles._

So the bond the two has does go deeper.

“You still haven’t answered my first question. How did you come to the possession of 3DMG?”

“We stole it, _duh_.” Isabel rolled her eyes, shoving her bound hands under Nanaba’s nose. Expecting to be released. “Levi-bro and Farlan did, at least.”

"Isabel, you dumbass, don't confess our crime to them." Isabel yelped when Farlan's fist cuffed her on the head. 

“That does not explain how you managed to alter its design,” finally, Mike spoke up. Agitation overcoming his cool. “All trainees were taught how to dismantle and reassemble them for maintenance, but none are able to construct its mechanism, let alone _upgrade_ it _._ The black box especially is a piece of sensitive machinery; you cannot simply crack it open, change its function, and expect it to work again.”

“It would take a high degree of engineering mastery to do so,” Erwin goaded, scanning their reactions. Sure enough, he found it through Isabel who puffed up her chest in pride, looking at the pair –Levi and Faye. It's one of them. He chose to address Levi, “Are you responsible for this?”

“None of your business,” came Levi’s curt spat, murky droplets shook from his damp hair. Faye prying open Levi’s shackles with a key handed to him, as Levi kept reducing any soldiers approaching him into a cowering mouse. “You already got your own.”

“These could be a vital resource in our operation. We need to know who made this.”

“I did,” another pair of metal shackles clattered to the ground, Faye rubbing his sore and red wrists. “But it’s not part of our deal, you can’t have them.”

“It’s government property you vandalized,” Mike pointed out. He’s hunching slightly, favoring one leg. Erwin shot him a brief concerned look, to which Mike let it bounced off him. “Like I’ve told you, tinkering with them warrant a severe punishment.”

“While it’s true that Levi and Farlan stole 3DMG from the Military Police, the ones I _vandalized_ however, is _my_ property,” pointing to a pile of their confiscated belongings. “In my journal, you can find the receipt papers and documents that give me the rights to own them, and to do whatever I please with my purchase.” 

He’s not the only one who stared at the man with varying degrees of befuddlement. A criminal… who went all the trouble to purchase something through legal means, and went so far as acquiring the legal documents?

“You could’ve forged them!” Nanaba protested from behind, edging to sputtering. “And where would you buy 3DMG legally? The black market?!”

Faye rolled his eyes, “Take it up to the courthouse then, they’ll have the records. But I doubt you’d have the time. Also, the black market prices are ridiculous. I just need to stroll up into a bar in Capital and ask some MP if they’re interested in selling theirs.” He shrugged, sticking his hands into the pockets of his jacket as if bored. “Those corrupt pigs don’t need them much, and trust me, it’s not uncommon. They would sell the gear for the right price. If you know where to ask.”

Mind swirling, Erwin strode towards the confiscated belongings, the soldier guarding them already began sorting through the pile. A couple of knives, coin purses, a lockpick tools from the blond one, a tied napkin full of buttered biscuits and dried fruits… the soldier passed him a thick leather journal.

Erwin flipped through the pages and found he could not even begin to discern the letters. Looping tightly and scrawling sloppy as a doctor’s handwriting, while the blocky text wasn’t even remotely close to resembling any letters of standard language. But he could understand some of the diagrams – _blueprints_ – of engines and machinery, an anatomical structure of the human body and various organs, street grids mapping unknown locations... He recognized some plants illustrated with arrows pointing at its parts, notes indiscernible.

Various papers halfway lolling off the pages. He sorted through them –most of them were blueprints of odd machines and… recipes? Finally, a blue wax stamp of the Royal Government peeked from one of the papers, and indeed, it was a legal paper for the rights of ownership. Clipped onto it, the receipts, complete with the seller’s signatures. He recognized one of them to be of a Military Police's senior personnel's.

 _Sina_ _be_ _merciful_. Erwin turned back to meet Faye’s cool, expectant stare. Beside him, Levi visibly suppressing the urge to smirk from the rigidity of his expression contrasting with an air of superiority he exudes, arms crossed with a casual slouch, taunting giddily. Then, he answered Mike’s silent demand. He gave Mike a subtle nod, which only made him even more perplexed, with the added air of frustrated defeat.

The blueprints and diagrams were all the proof Erwin needed to confirm, the man was truly the one who upgraded the gears. He’s an engineer.

Grasping for words eluding him, Erwin cleared his throat. “I will be taking the papers with me, to confirm their credibility. You will have them back, I assure you. But, why all the hassle?”

“I’m not a criminal, Sir,” Faye crooned, slowly, as if talking to a toddler. “I am a but a humble, law-abiding doctor. And, occasional mechanic. A side hobby.”

Nanaba finally lost all composure, she outright sputtered, indignant in her confounded state. “A doctor?! You worked with criminals! You show aggression towards law enforcement!”

“In Underground, who wouldn’t,” Farlan scoffed. “He’s not ours. He never participated in our— _activities_ either. Faye here really is a doctor, you can ask around. He made us the improved gear and medicines out of favor for Levi, but otherwise, he’s an innocent civilian. Which, you just apprehended.” 

“From fighting with soldiers!”

“Compose yourself, Soldier,” Nanaba deflated, chastised. Erwin could feel a pulsing migraine looming on his skull. “I have no other choice but to give you back your rightful property. However. Faye, we need you to make more of these improved gear."

“Like hell he will, that ain't part of the deal," this time, Levi interjected. "I ain't riskin' those Interior dogs sniffing on him, if they got wind of this, they'll come knocking and nobody will ever see the tail-end of him ever again. No. You can shove that up your ass, and sit tight with the gears you already got."

Erwin understood where he's coming from, having a personal experience with his loved one disposed of for knowing too much-- but he couldn't soften himself out of empathy, for the sake of humanity, they needed all the advantage they could get to fight the titans.

"I can speak for myself, Levi," the acidic snap was scorching as the look Faye pressed down on Levi, who countered with his own warning glare. For the first time, the two were at odds, the harmony they exuded so naturally, dissolved. Like two opposing predators sizing each other before they lunged to battle for dominance. Hostile. Anyone stumbled into the scene would assume the two are going to kill each other. 

A prolonged, thick pause of silent argument, Levi clicked his tongue scathingly. Refusing to look at Faye, who emerged a humble victor as he regarded Erwin calmly, acting like the quiet feud never happened. "We may be under your command, and the deal does mean we're bound by duty to serve the Corps. But _only_ as a soldier. You have to commission me for my engineering skills. That, also applied to my medical service.”

Erwin clenched his jaw. Once again, the man had the upper hand, playing his cards right but still within rules. “How much would it cost?”

“I have no need for money,” Faye pulled away from the bubble he and Levi shared, closing in on Erwin. “I know you’re a man of many connections, Section Commander, as proven from those spies you sent to watch my friends. I’m sure you’ll devise a way so that I won’t be ‘apprehended’ by the Interior Police should they hear of my ingenious tinkering of the government property. So, I have no qualms on building you as many gears as you want, but there are conditions you have to meet.”

Trepidation poured over his head like cold water, like stepping into a pit of snake, Erwin had to step carefully. The man knew of his intel, he knew of his and Mike’s position in the Corps, what else could he know? Could he be working closely with Lovof? He’s not part of this criminal group, but showed loyalty to Levi, going as far as joining the Corps with him when he could easily get out of the deal. Whatever this enigma wanted from him, it couldn’t end well.

He nearly flinched at the sudden waving of hand from Faye, as if swatting a persistent fly, he effectively dispersed the tension. “But, that can be arranged later. We shall discuss this at a later date, at proper place. There are many eyes and ears here in Underground, wouldn’t you agree, Sir?”

Stiffly, he nodded. He would have a better advantage at home field, and more time to think up a better strategy against this beast. “Indeed. Let us all head to the elevator,” his soldiers abided, four separating from the rest to herd their newest additions, in case they would try something. “You will be formally introduced to the rest of the Scouts, and settle yourself in the headquarters.”

“We get to ride the elevator?” Came a whisper, tight and high with inflated giddiness. Isabel. “That thing’s guarded tighter than the King’s crown, and we get to ride it to go to the surface?”

“Thank Sina we don’t have to climb through those stairs, I can feel my knees creaking imagining it.”

“What, you gonna keel over from your age, Farlan? You should’ve drink your vitamins like I told you to.”

“Fuck your vitamins, Faye. I know you made them disgusting on purpose!”

“You can’t prove a thing.”

“We gonna ride the elevator!”

“Faye, brush your teeth. They’re yellow like a damn horse piss from all that dust.”

“Look who’s talking. At least my hair doesn’t smell like a ditch you were born in.”

Levi kicked behind Faye’s knee, the latter retaliating with a shove. He yanked the hood of Faye’s jacket, forcing him to bend down, hissing, “Give me your damned handkerchief, asshole. I’m dripping like a drenched mangy mutt.”

Erwin observed them from the back, treading along him Mike lowly spoke, “As you’ve planned, you got your wings, Erwin. But that man," he jutted his chin towards Faye's back, playfully tousling Levi's hair dry with a piece of cloth. "-is an entirely whole other trouble.”

“I know,” he conceded, yet his steps never faltered. “But it’s a bet I’m willing to take. Nothing worthwhile ever demands light sacrifices.”

He originally set off to mine treasures, to hunt for fresh wings, the brand new ones who could aid him reaching closer towards his goal. But what he found instead, were treasures guarded by a beast as cunning and greedy as he. The encounter left him breathless, to find your equal was not as exhilarating as he once imagined. Erwin’s right hand was trembling, the one twisted back, swathe of blue a tell-tale of swelling bruise. He hid it beneath his cloak, urging it to still.

It was less of hunt and more of a bargain deal between two monsters of the same kind. What he might have to trade away in the bargain still eluded him, but what Faye offered in advance before the full reward was exactly what Erwin was looking for: a man who cannot break. The man with stolen wings.

He could only hope he’s not making a mistake.

.

“You’re making a mistake!” the table rattled from the force of fist pounding, the water jug and mugs along with their content sloshing. Flagon bristling in his seat, practically half-way off it. "Quite frankly, this is a disgrace! Are you honestly telling us, soldiers, who have always held respect in high regard, to accept a bunch of criminals?!" he demanded at the Commander. "Our men's morale will be tainted if we allow those Underground scums to join the ranks!"

"I am in agreement with Flagon," another officer chimed in. "And to suggest we take these criminals with us in the next expedition? They lack discipline, there's no telling they will follow a superior's order and went off on their own, clouded with their own hubris. Not only they would risk their lives, they will also risking everyone else's with their reckless actions!" 

“We all had to go through the same training, yet you’re asking us to accept criminals into our ranks? What should I tell my subordinates?”

Erwin already anticipated protests to arise. But that didn't stop the headache from creeping nonetheless. It's true, letting in criminals unfamiliar with the chain of commands, the obvious lack of respect, would not only make soldiers question the officers' decisions and the Corps' qualification standards, but also, risked their fate once they embarked on the expedition. The Scouts' probability of survival only as high as the soldiers' trust in each other, adding these four into their ranks only added deadly risk. They're unreliable elements threatening to topple the precariously built camaraderie of respect and trust between soldiers and commanding officers. Not to mention it's breaching a lot of protocols already.

"I understand your concerns, Captain Flagon Turret," he placated Flagon, who was the closest he could see eye-to-eye, "You are right. These people had no training, they did not earn wings from us, they grew their own, out of necessity. And I believe those wings will play a part in revolutionizing this organization."

"You speak of revolution?" He was not swayed; Flagon was nothing but firm in his convictions, and his unshaken loyalty to his men. A trait, Erwin found, admirable. And wished he could emulate without fabricating it as a cover for his greater ambition. "I just prayed that venturing outside the walls won't become the greatest of their crimes."

"Your concerns are only natural. However, the new formation Erwin has been working on is quite ground-breaking," Commander Shadis caught all of their attention at once, arms crossed and despite his skepticism, Erwin had no doubts he was vouching for his decision. "It emphasizes importance not on how best to kill the titans, but how we should best avoid them. I believe our casualties would be greatly reduced."

Convincing Keith Shadis was not a painless endeavor; proposing his new scouting formation was one thing, but it took even longer to convince the brass -particularly General Zackly, gather a retrieval squad, and arrange a co-operation between the Corps and the MP. Before he knew it, a fortnight passed until he could finally brave the belly of Mitras to reap the riches he sets his eyes upon.

He said he'll bring back three. Not four.

"The formation is likely to be accepted as the norm of our forces," Erwin elaborated. The rising probability of survival would boost the troops' morale, and the realization dawned in their faces. 

Commander Shadis nodded. "What those scums lack are discipline and manners, it should only require a short amount of time to train them. They don't appear to be idiots. Right, Erwin?"

"Correct," Erwin confirmed. Flagon remained grinding his teeth. He quite pitied the man once he found out the four would be under his command. "In particular, I suspected one of them to be a former soldier. Or at least, a recruit who deserted. He displayed trained discipline, respect for the chain of command, and certain mannerism that clued me he might have received military training."

"The engineer?" Shadis eyes fixated upon the modified 3DMG Erwin presented on the table. "The one who created this new version of the gear, huh. You said he is also a doctor. And he would only accept the commission if we obliged to his demands?"

"We should not lower ourselves to bargain with a criminal! Even worse, a renegade!" once again, Flagon protested. "Whatever his demands are, it cannot mean well for us!"

"He hasn't proposed his conditions yet. We have time to negotiate with him, to reach a favorable deal." 

"I will be present at the negotiation," it was non-negotiable, the Commander's demand to Erwin. "Until then, we'll focus on training and familiarizing the troops with the new scouting formation. We'll end things here for today." 

The introduction of the new unorthodox recruits went as well as expected. A lot of the soldiers were skeptical, few indignant, but some were fascinated. The four stood in a row, from the shortest to tallest, like stacks of stairs. Levi couldn't be bothered to spill only his name without so much as a nod and staring down at the troops with an air of indolence, Isabel introduced herself with all her brazen exuberance, Farlan at least tried to imitate the salute and spoke well-mannered. Faye, however, honed the attention with his perfect salute and strong voice, offered his name and heart all at once with his respectable bearings. A proper soldier.

Commander Shadis looked almost approving.

Erwin hoped it would last to meet the day they have to negotiate the terms; when the Commander would not see a soldier, but a cunning beast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> faye/eren @ erwin basically: "im bout to end this man's whole career"
> 
> So, in the manga, around this time the 3DMG core mechanism is shaped like a single barrel, then Isayama updated the design to match with the anime's in Marley arc. Eren basically updated the gear early for Underground Trio (plus my original mod on the buckle and belt material to make it easier to get out of). Note: the official name for the military branch is Survey Corps, but colloquially, people would call them 'Scouts' to refer to the personnel, and just 'Corps' to refer the branch itself. Also, I can't find the name of the scout girl who caught Isabel in the OVA, so, have a young Nanaba! I love Nanaba tbh shame she died before we can learn more of her (some of you might say Nanaba is nonbinary or a man, but I checked, and Nanaba used the feminine "watashi" in the manga, so I'm going to portray Nanaba as a woman if you don't mind).
> 
> I based Levi's fighting style on Black Widow's style and Winter Soldier's knife skills lol. I believe Levi is THAT flexible enough to pull off the disarming-by-crotch move, his height is main disadvantage so I figured he'll use a style that would prioritize speed and flexibility (and some acrobatics) to overpower bigger opponents like Black Widow does --though, he got that Ackerman Strength to buff him up so he's basically a super soldier. Not to mention Kenny focused Levi to master his knife, so he definitely likes playing with it absent-mindedly, often enough it becomes an extension of himself. While Faye/Eren, his are an amalgamation of Annie's (Muay Thai) with other types of styles he developed over the years, and of course, knuckle-dusters would be his main preferred weapon. Both of them are dirty fighters though. I hope I did the fighting scene justice.
> 
> I use my headcanon that shifters can use their titan power in their human body if they’re proficient enough (i.e. uses super strength like Ackerman, generating crystals, etc.) like how Annie can crystalize her body and Eren in canon used his War Hammer ability to bust out of prison. So here Faye/Eren can use his titan strength if he wants, but also comes with the titan drawbacks (i.e. weakened without sunlight). And if you squint, looks like Levi has a strength kink ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> I apologize for mistakes in spelling and/or grammar, thank you for reading! 
> 
> You can follow me on twitter: @rosylilacpetal


	5. The Strongest of Bonds oft Born of Strife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Farlan tried to mitigate the chaos that's his found-family into a resemblance of a functional force in his grand scheme –too bad Faye always took the role of the wild card. Thus, the process of severing bonds and forging anew began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what. 
> 
> I went overboard again. I apologize! This chapter was meant to be less than 10k, but my ass went dramatic....I hope you don't mind the enormous length Q^Q cause this chapter's theme is 'forging friendship while also severing bonds' (basically Eren doing the ghosting bullshit he did with Mika&Armin in the previous timeline but... softer & subtler, while making alliances with others for benefit. but! other characters are also bonding with new people :D ), if I cut it in half it won't fit the 'thing' I'm going for, where the chapter's title has a correlation with the story being told in that chapter -like Isayama does with the manga chapters. I even cut off my favorite Levi/Eren moment *cries*. You guys gotta have to wait for the next chapter for THAT particular scene I've been slaving over. But in exchange, this chapter got fanarts I made myself! I'm still an amateur artist, it's been a while since I touched my watercolors and sketchbook, and my phone camera is shitty but hopefully you all will like it! 
> 
> Enjoy reading <3

** 843 **

They’ve been in the Survey Corps for only a couple of hours and Levi was already two seconds away from getting court-martialed for murdering a superior officer.

“I know you lot are used to living in a dump all your lives, but try to keep this place clean, you hear?”

“Haa?” smart snap of his fingers flicking off dust he dragged from the bedframe erupted a flinch from Flagon. With chin lifted and low voice reverberating through the spine of all who heard him, Levi could make a grown man feel smaller and effectively cowered under his withering glare. “You wanna say that again?”

One hand casually looped a thumb into his belt, a gesture Farlan acutely familiar with. Sweat building behind his goosebumped neck. Did the soldiers manage to confiscate Levi’s nail clipper? A habit, carrying that tiny thing around to clean or fine his nails. But it also had gouged a couple of eyeballs and split too many tongues in the past.

The very air within the deserted barrack dense with tension, the dampered noise choking, like the eye of a storm. Beside him, Isabel bit her bottom lips in gleeful anticipation, skittering for cover behind Faye, as Levi narrowed Flagon’s personal space with the intent to subjugate. Farlan had seen that in action before. His own gang turned on him one by one, quicker than his jackrabbiting heartbeat, like dominoes they yield under a single look Levi fired as lethal as a gunshot. A displeased click of his tongue made one cower, like chastising unruly mutts to obedience. Back then, he too, bent under the primal fear of the sharper claws, showing his neck to save it. But this territory is unfamiliar with such rules of the jungle nor acknowledge the authority of a top dog. They've all been disciplined to adhere to the chain of commands and respect in teamwork. Respect earned from trust. Not fear. 

Ah _shit_. Farlan squashed the urge to facepalm. Good-fucking-bye to the good rapport he had been painstakingly building.

“Y-You! How dare you approach a superior officer with that attitude!” hackles raised, Flagon straightened his posture, physically towering over Levi but didn’t dare to step forward –his feet facing one side as if preparing to turn heel and flee at a moment’s notice. “Don’t take that tone with your Captain, you little punk!”

Flagon Turret was a man of formalities, Farlan deduced, from the get-go the man was harsher, stricter, to them, suspecting they’re always up to no good –not without merit though. Throughout their walk to the barracks, the Captain’s been yapping on and on about the rules and emphasizing the priority of etiquette lessons they would have to learn –Farlan assured him they will excel, buttering up the man. Considering how and from where the four of them were recruited, Flagon Turret probably thought the only way to earn their respect and obedience was through hazing, and because they’re ignorant of the formal protocols they had to be disciplined properly –like how all soldiers should be before they earn their branch’s badge. All in all, he’s a pedantic jerk. 

The exact kind of jerk their ilk ate for breakfast and spat out to the gutter.

He barely slithered in-between what would be manslaughter, bodily shielding his new commanding officer from an increasingly pissed-off Levi. “Don’t you worry about it, Sir! We’ll keep this place squeaky clean!” He presented his best Good Samaritan smile to Flagon, imitating the salute, whilst throwing a warning look to Levi over his shoulder. “ _Right?_ ”

Levi gritted his teeth at Farlan, clicking his tongue as he turned cheek, arms slackened to his sides. The thick tension elevated from their shoulders.

“Hmph. See to it that you do,” Flagon harrumphed, jaw tight. His shoulders jerked as he turned to leave, like flinching in expectation to be struck. Nobody’s immune to Levi’s intimidating presence. Heels turned, stomping to the door, “You’ll begin training first thing tomorrow morning, starting with a proper salute –especially you, Church!”

The door bang closed, rattling the roof’s beams and shaking up dust, fluttering down upon their heads. When the footsteps faded, Farlan whirled on Levi, he wanted to bark louder but the looming migraine mellowed his mounting frustration somewhat, “Levi, we talked about this! I told you not to start shit!”

“Did you not hear what that piece of shit was spouting out of his piece of shit mouth?” Sneering at the sheets he pulled from their assigned bunk, Levi threw it back, smell of stuffy closet and stale detergent burst into the air. “Like shit calling shit dirty. Look at this dump.”

He gestured, to the dirty floor cluttered with empty bottles and discarded rubbish, to the haphazard blankets and sheets hanging from bunks, to the stains and grimes layering various surfaces. “Isabel’s room is a fuckin palace compared to this. And they call _us_ barbarians.”

“Military hazing is vicious. Don’t pull that kind of act again, we’re already got a lot of eyes on us!”

“Hmph. They’ll only treat you with _courtesy_ if you act dull, just like them,” Isabel sniffed, head high. She clambered to the top bunk, plopping her ass there and crossing legs like claiming her throne. Pumping her fists, “We can just beat the stuffin’ outta these jackasses like we do Underground! Right, Levi-bro?”

“Oi, Isabel, get down from there. Sina forbid you caught sumn from it, who knows where it been.”

“Give it a rest,” Farlan swatted off the dust floating all over the stale, musty air. Sniffling, he furiously rubbed his nose to stifle the tingling sneeze. “You haven’t forgotten why we’re here, have you?”

“Tch. I remember,” Levi tucked his red scarf above his mouth, shielding from the cloud of dust. "We got in, just like you planned. But we still don't know where Eyebrows hides those documents to blackmail that weak-chinned noble."

 _"Exactly._ So, _behave,_ ” Farlan made sure it’s clear he’s talking to both Levi and Isabel, eyeballing them each. The problem children of the family. Isabel clicked her tongue, muttering her grievances under her breath. He ignored that. “We’re playing in the enemy’s base. My plans don’t mean shit if the Scouts caught on it, so play nice but don’t get too chummy with them. Until we get our hands on those documents, we gotta do everything we can to avoid suspicions. And speaking of _suspicions….”_

It’s been nagging him all the way from the elevator ride, through the carriage ride they were transported to the headquarters –chaperoned by a soldier, there’s no chance to speak without uninvited ears overhearing. Not to mention the subject of his unease had been adroitly keeping himself on Farlan’s blind spot, quiet as a mouse. While Levi and Isabel were insolently blatant in their chaos, the other troublemaker was the type who never got caught. But Farlan didn’t live to see his twenties in Underground without exercising vigilance.

He looked around to find- “Oi, Faye. Care to share what’s up with your attitude back then?”

Jarring creak of rusty hinges and shuddering of glass had them wincing, tickling ears, clattering teeth. Burnt orange sunlight burst forth from the window opened, finally, to let in the cooling afternoon air. Dust dancing like snowflakes, winking white in the stream of light. Faye leaned back after poking his head out of the windowsill, his head and mouth were covered in pieces of cloth folded triangular. One arm had a blanket draped over it, the other holding a broom already.

“Sorry,” his voice muffled by the cloth, acknowledging with a nod, as cool as cucumber. While he had donned the soldier’s uniform and the old standard harnesses, he had forgone the olive-green tunic into a deceptively white, light grey hoodie with sleeves rolled up to elbows, the tan uniform jacket shed and draped over a chair. “Had to look for the supply closet, this place _reeks_ of depressed, sweaty teenagers and week-old wet socks _._ Didn’t your plan call for us to join Erwin Smith’s squad, Farlan?”

“When did you- nevermind. That’s true, but at least give me a _small_ margin of error, we still made it to the Survey Corps, right? And as long as we get what we came here for before the expedition—wait, no. Don’t change the subject, Faye!” Somehow, with face obscured only his eyes are visible, the aforementioned man managed a mildly surprised, innocent look, as if saying ‘Who? _Me_?’ at Farlan’s accusing forefinger jab.

“You’ve been acting strange since Lovof’s men approached us –no, weeks before that even! You never woke up ‘fore any of us but yer already gone this morning with just a note. Scared the shit out of those Scouts from that stunt you pulled, _and_ making business deals with the target! Yer lucky we backed you up,” in his humble opinion, their impromptu acting was superb. “The hell do ya mean by ‘conditions’?! Now _all_ our movement will be scrutinized, thanks to you!”

“Quit naggin’ Faye, Farlan!” Isabel leaned over from the bunk, face encompassing Farlan’s vision, her breath smelled humidly sour. She skipped breakfast to look for their missing doctor. “They ain’t gon let us rest easy anyway! Faye got reasons for doin’ that. We barely saw him for ‘while, so he musta been doin’ somethin’ sensitive!”

“Sensitive enough he disappeared for weeks?” Levi growled terse and tight, now he’s closing in on Faye. “Where have you been all those times? And why so insistent on getting blondie’s attention, anyway? That scumbag nearly scalped you.”

“Because Farlan needs a distraction,” Faye thrust his broom out, halting Levi’s advance, forcing him to take the broom. “I’m making myself a giant target, so Smith’s attention would be solely tacked on _me_. While he’s busy being led around by the nose by yours truly, Farlan can sneak around and get the documents.”

“Why just Farlan, what about us?” Isabel said, pointing to herself and Levi.

“If both of you can actually be _discreet,_ I would count on it too,” Faye pokes out of the window again, flapping the blanket to clear it off of dust. “But since you two got the stealth of a rampaging boar in an antique shop, you guys are only worth as props playing soldiers.”

“Hey! I can totally be discreet!”

“Doesn’t explain where you’ve been up to.”

“Farlan, start cleaning around the bunk, don’t let a single speck of dust behind,” Faye jabbed a thumb to his side, where Levi still glaring at the side of his face, broom clutched like he got half a mind to smack the taller man with it. Faye remained nonplussed. “You don’t want this one raising a fuss, do you?”

“Answer me, Worm Hermit. Where the fuck you been.”

“Meeting my secret paramour,” Faye deadpanned, folding the blanket into a small rectangular without pause. “Having tea parties with royals, talking smack about weak-chinned aristocrats and toppling the government,” He sidestepped Levi’s swinging broom, “I was getting those papers to throw off Smith! Maria be merciful, what crawled up your ass and died?”

“Quit foolin’ around, bastard!” Levi caught the hoodie strings and yanked Faye, finally, to eye-level, “I ain’t buyin’ a single shit you spat. Ya been all shady avoidin’ us like a plague, _months_ way ‘fore that noble’s errand rat came to us, and when I finally caught yer ass home once, ya washing blood off yer hands. What, ya gotta slit some throats to get those papers forged?”

Not breaking eye-contact, Faye calmly pinched a patch of skin underneath Levi’s bicep, making him flinch, slackening in stance, and withdrew his grip on the hoodie. Faye didn’t relent the pinch, using it to force Levi back without moving from his spot until they’re an arm-length away from each other. “Contrary to popular belief, not every problem can be solved with murder, Levi. I know you want to kill Erwin Smith regardless of Farlan’s plan that turns the order from Lovof _optional._ Your head wasn’t dunked _that_ hard.”

Levi whipped his arm free from the pinch, “It ain’t bout that, and ya know it!”

“Do I?” Mask lowered, Faye met Levi’s scorching glower with his marble-cold hollow stare. “Getting hurt is part of the job, Levi. You can’t get all up in arms for every time one of us is harmed by the enemy. Don’t raise a fuss more than we already have.”

Not one to ever back down, Levi’s posture only exalted in greeting the challenge, with chin lifted, teeth hissing out, “Look who’s barkin’. I ain’t the one taking jabs at those soldiers’ insecurities _and_ cornerin’ their leader to make shady deals with me. Ain’t gotta raise a fuss when _you_ already done a great job kicking the hornet’s nest!”

“If your ears actually have more function than just decoration, you would know as I’ve _told_ before, it was deliberate and beneficial for Farlan’s plan. Lay off your temper and clear your mind, Levi.”

“ _Beneficial_ my lily-white ass! Yer up to no good, ya incorrigible crafty bastard!”

“Hey! Quit it!” Isabel somersaulted down the top bunk, scuttling close to tug on Levi’s arm, whose entire stance is taut like a tiger crouching to pounce. Farlan itched to also hold Faye’s shoulder, although the man was standing still like a statue, he’s always at his most dangerous silent. “C’mon you two, no point arguin’ ‘bout it! Can’t do anything now it’s already passed! So now we just gotta go on with the rest of Farlan’s plan, and— WATCH OUT!”

Farlan ducked on reflex, cussing. Whereas Isabel’s screech nearly eclipsing another that followed; the screeching of the thing swooping in through the window, grazing, almost colliding, with Faye’s head if Levi didn’t tackle him to the floor on time. Farlan raised his head, looking for the source of frantic flapping—

“Is that a fucking bird?” Half-squawking, Farlan craned his neck up to see the animal, perched on one of the horizontal beam supporting the roof, back facing them. Isabel yelped behind a bed, and Farlan took a stuttering step back when the bird turned its head a half circle around, looking down at them with black beady eyes, and in its beak, something white and draping dangles. “No- Ah _hell no!_ W-what is that thing?!”

“An owl…” Faye groaned from where he sprawled on the floor under Levi, caging him. He’s looking at the bird like an exasperatedly disappointed parent. “Of all things, it’s got to be an owl. Levi, get off of me.”

“I’m getting up right now, quit kneeing my balls.”

“You’re the one who tackled me! Wait don’t move your han- Aaghh! My hair!”

“Get lost, shoo!” Farlan snatched the discarded broom, waving it above his head, attempting to drive out the bird –who didn’t once twitch, blinking slow at him like he’s an amusing spectacle. His cheeks warmed, what does he look right now? A demented moron, probably. “It’s looking at me creepy! Hey! Get off there!”

“Hereee, birdy-birdy,” Isabel clicks her tongue in a rapid rhythm, fingers wiggling. “Aww, lookit him! His feather’s so pretty! Like cotton and bronze! And those eyes! Wow, did you say it’s an owl, Faye?”

“That thing looks like a burnt overgrown chicken,” the owl screeched at Levi, who only glowered darker, “The fuck? These cretins only awake at night, and it’s nowhere near a farm. Ain’t no rats around eating crops,” Levi didn’t leave his eyes from the bird while pulling up Faye to his feet. “Nearly took out my damn heart. Don’t yell that loud, Bel, fuck’s sake.”

 _It’s a cloth_ , Farlan felt stupid for not realizing quicker, the white thing in its beak was once covering Faye’s head. His long hair now loose, draped over his back. Faye had his hands on his hips, scowling up at the owl. It hooted at Faye, flapping its wings, letting the cloth fall for Faye to snatch. “You got a sense of humor, I’ll give you that,” he sighed, rolling down one sleeve before outstretching the arm. “Come down.”

The three of them ducked when it swooped down, Farlan halfway reaching for Faye’s hoodie to pull him down along, expecting the bird to claw his eyes out. But to his amazement, it didn’t. It landed on Faye’s arm, shaking its plumage, hooting softly letting Faye’s finger brushed its head. Seeing that, Isabel bounced on the balls of her feet, eyes glimmering, grinning as she made a whistling kettle noise from her throat.

“Lemme pet it, Faye! I wanna pet i—Ack!” Faye clamped Isabel’s nose, leading her to backtrack, flailing.

“Nope. We’re _not_ keeping this little guy. Birds are meant to be free, not caged within four walls,” The bird was tucked safely in the cradle of Faye’s arm, cooing and crooning- Farlan squinted at something black, bulky, bulging under the plumage of its belly, he didn’t see it before since the cloth obscured it from view.

“Ey, what’s that thing—”

“I’m taking it outside,” Faye turned his back on them, swiping his jacket from the chair, striding swift to the door. Levi dogging right behind him, but Faye’s got longer legs. “It seems calm with me, so I’m going to free it. You guys can start cleaning without me, be right back.”

“Faye-” the door slammed shut on Levi’s face, dust sprinkling down again from the beams above their heads. Levi made a brief, muffled growling noise from his throat. Standing too still, too stiff, his shoulders shuddered in tension, nose probably a hairbreadth away from the door’s surface.

Farlan caught Isabel’s frantic eyes, empathizing with her agitation. They all hated it when those two were at odds –aside from harmless jabs and roughhousing, an uncommon occurrence. Which made every time it happened, a jarring, harrowing experience.

They both stilted into statues when Levi exhaled hard in a rumbling breath, tension rippled across his posture only to stagger and congeal in his firm fists and stiff shoulders. He turned back but didn’t look at them in the eye, storming up to the supply closet rummaging for cleaning tools instead. Didn’t bother hiding his frustration, making it as noisy as possible.

“Levi-bro… He’s makin’ you angry on purpose,” Isabel reserved tact not to approach any further, not when Levi is like that. “Y’know how he is. Makin’ a scene, steerin’ the topic away, he’s as slippery as eels when avoidin’ questions.”

“Ain’t nothin’ new,” Levi acknowledged, voice came out in a rough rumble from the throat as he tied a cloth to cover his head. Eyes still fixated on the floor, jaw tight. “The damn universe’s conspiring with him. Tch. Damn bird, swooping in like he called it for backup.”

“This is Faye we’re talking about, he probably did,” Farlan joked, soothing the atmosphere. Isabel tittered to join in his chuckling. A reoccurring joke between them: Faye’s lifestyle reminded them of the witches from old wife’s tales, he probably knew how to summon flocks of bird to escape a conversation. Farlan sobered at the sharp look Levi pinned him with. “You should've said what you wanna say straight away instead of getting baited, Levi."

"You try talkin' at him when he got sumn to hide, and see if you won't lose your shit," Levi hissed. Farlan agreed internally, though Faye's tactic would be overwhelming Farlan with too many questions that distanced from himself but twinge on Farlan's damned compulsion to explain everything so his traitorous mouth would open itself, and just like that it's over. Faye would already in command of the conversation's course. On Isabel, he would be overwhelming her with interesting but irrelevant information, ending with a teasing jab that would completely scatter Isabel's focus. "And I don't see _you_ doin' shit to get through him."

"But you know we can’t corner him, well at least, not us-” he jerks a thumb to Isabel then himself, “-both. Only you can get through him.”

Farlan has high hopes the two would be on amicable terms again by tomorrow. Serious fights between Faye and Levi were sparse and often short-lived since both were not the type to let things hang loose. What they couldn’t settle in public or on the spot, they’ll cool down in separate ways then regroup to settle the dispute in privacy. The hard part was getting Faye to stay put long enough to reconcile. Faye’s good at steering the conversation to end on his terms. Levi's pragmatic, but often overruled by his pride, so it's easier for Faye to make him lose by pushing his temper. Goading him to lose focus on the goal he pursued so Faye could change the topic then ultimately left with the last words and empty-handed Levi. Like he just did.

Not to say Levi had no self-discipline to control his impulses –he was adept at it actually, but Faye understood him better than anyone, thus, an expert at pushing all the right buttons to unravel Levi and turned him irrational. Farlan wouldn’t ever say that out loud –he still wanted to live ‘till his sixties with all limbs intact, thanks.

“But Faye’s right, y’know,” Levi shot Isabel a scowl, she put up placating hands. “Yeah, I get it, we all hate it when he’s right doin’ the shady thing –don’t act like we ain’t do the same thing often back Underground, it’s our bread and butter. Sure! He went off the grid without our say-so, but blondie’s invested in him now. And so’s the rest of the Corps. He’s dangling a chunk of meat to hungry wolves!”

Isabel might retain a childish disposition and idealistic view, but living under the same roof with three ruthless older brothers in a cut-throat environment wouldn’t leave her much room for a dull mind. Farlan nodded in support, “The grapevines gonna work overtime, it won’t be long ‘till everyone knows what Faye did. And you saw how he acted in the courtyard, he’s practically a perfect soldier –they’ll want to know what makes him thick, his backgrounds, everything. All eyes are on him. That means the rest of us can move near undetected, just as long as we play our part right.”

“I know he said he used to know a couple o’ Garrison soldiers, but I didn’t know he can imitate the salute too!” Isabel stared at her reflection in the window, trying to put her fists into the salute’s form, straining to reach her back. “Faye never half-assed anything, huh. Even said all that crap ‘bout following duty to blondie’s face.”

“He _is_ very thorough,” Farlan frowned. Internally, he suspected there’s a missing piece he didn’t catch. “He’s a good actor, never minced on any details,” It’s always hard to tell if Faye’s on your side or not. Whether in a brawl or argument, Faye plays by his own rules and Farlan believes his motivations are rooted on his own self-interest. 

Ever since he began to work together with Levi, and by association, Faye, Farlan had an easier time trusting Levi. Whose nature was immutable therefore predictable, because he never bothered to hide his true self. Despite his harsh, standoffish attitude and sadistic tendencies, it's easy to see how much Levi cared for people he took under his wing, even though he didn’t show it blatantly, it’s obvious how deeply he loved. A kind man behind the veneer of social ineptitude and armor of hostility, which he took up to survive in the Underground. It’s what made it so easy to grow earnest loyalty for Levi. What made Farlan threw himself in front of enemy’s knife to protect the back of a man who turned Farlan’s own men against him. Because he came to learn that Levi would do the same should their position reversed.

His first impression of Faye was actually pretty good, albeit a bit suspicious, nobody living in Underground was _that_ generous without ulterior motive. He was initially charmed by Faye’s pleasant… everything. From his physical beauty to serene demeanor. But there’s always something unnerving about Faye, a certain vibe that sent Farlan’s genetically-branded survival instinct to go completely apeshit. Screaming at him to _run_. _Run_. _A_ _threat_. _An_ _apex_ _predator_.

His gut feeling proven true from Faye’s gruesome handiwork littering the hideout they found Isabel in. Levi told him off-handedly about the bodies buried in the garden, of Faye’s words when Levi searched for a hint of remorse from the doctor. Faye, despite his profession, had no qualms in murder should he see fit. A giant, red flag signaling Farlan, _this motherfucker is a damn psychopath._

It’s like a wake-up slap. He started handling Faye with mild caution, though they both got along amicably; Farlan even trusted Faye to heal the gang members from illnesses or wounds, and to teach him all he can learn about medical treatment whenever Faye’s indisposed –but the trust only went as far as Farlan could benefited from Faye. It's like living with an intelligent wild tiger who only tolerated him in its territory because it's more convenient, Farlan knew if he stepped a toe out of line the harmonious part in the cohabitation could be easily revoked.

The only reason Farlan wasn’t completely afraid or openly hostile of Faye was because he always put their well-being and best interest into consideration –for whatever end it’ll meet. Farlan considered Faye a friend, but one he should always watch out for in case he decided to cut off from them altogether. The wariness became more prominent after what happened with Erwin Smith. Faye now playing off the grid, pursuing a goal unaligned with theirs, and keeping secrets on which the hints only brought to light recently. It all reeked of a scheme far greater scope than blackmailing a noble as Farlan had mapped out for them. 

He glanced at Levi passing Isabel a cloth to clean the window with, feeling torn between respect and bafflement. How the hell Levi managed to survive so long around someone as volatile as Faye?

“Fine. Can’t confront him on daylight, I gotta corner him later,” Levi groused, his sweeping finally subdued into a calm pattern instead of brusque, forceful drag of broom. His speech back to composed, whenever he got flustered or furious his Underground accent got thicker –even Farlan not exempted from that. “He’s been running off goddess knows where, doing goddess knows what. And I can’t do shit ‘bout it,” Squeezing tight the red scarf around his neck his knuckles whitened, eyes to the floor. “It’s a talk long overdue.”

 _Why won’t he tell me anything,_ Farlan imagined it has been eating Levi up for a while. He and Isabel noticed, it affected them too, but it’s another thing entirely with Levi –who’s been agitated in silence at the doctor’s absence, his every query deflected at every turn whenever said doctor came home at ungodly hours and promptly flopped onto the bed, dead to the world. It’s frustrating when someone you grew up with, close like stuck by glue with, suddenly distanced himself from you. To have the ability to live inside another person’s life to the extent that it was shared rather than borrowed, suddenly annulled out of the blue and you couldn’t enter the home you’ve shared anymore, leaving you lost and devastated. Desperately looking for a way back in, to fix the connection.

Early in their friendship, Farlan used to hunger for that same easy camaraderie, but later he could see it’s a double-edged sword. The foundation was built on trust, once it cracked, the towers and castles you’ve built together would crumble in unison. Like a house of cards. Levi’s been running himself haggard trying to keep theirs from collapsing, while Faye…

“Faye always has his reasons, and he never meant any harm,” Isabel said. She’s looking at Farlan, a silent reassurance for him, “I trust him.”

He wished he also could, but Farlan had to stay vigilant for them. Always ready for a sudden bout of change, and react accordingly. He’s been betrayed too many times to be secure. Remembering how his own crew turned his back on him, choosing to stand behind Levi. He nodded to her nonetheless, smiling, to ease her.

“What are ya standin’ 'round like a moron for?” The balled-up sheets Levi threw would’ve whapped his face if Farlan didn’t catch them on time. “Air those out then get a mop and start cleaning. Ain’t want me raising a fuss, do ya?”

Farlan sighed, redundantly rolling his eyes, ignoring Isabel’s snickering. “Yeah, yeah. On it.”

Now that the dust settled, the commotion died down, Farlan counted the bunks. Frowning at the number. The barrack was spacious, long like a wide corridor with bunks lining the walls. There’s only a couple dozen of them at least, multiply the number of bunks by two for each bed it had, subtract the empty ones…. He thought there’ll be more soldiers.

“You think this is the only men’s barrack? Kinda short on manpower than I thought.”

“Dunno. Maybe there're other barracks, but Faye _did_ say the Corps ain’t all that popular,” Isabel chirped, “folks ain’t racin’ to enlist to be a titan’s chew toy, ya know.”

“So that’s not just any taunt, huh?” Farlan muttered, remembering Faye’s intimidation stunt. “He really rubbed salt and pour lemons on their wounds.”

From the far corner, Levi scoffed, “Faye can get under a damn saint’s skin. Now you get why I’m mad, the Scouts gonna try to teach him a lesson.”

“Aww, Levi-bro’s all worried. Faye can take care of himself, if anythin’, he’ll tear _you_ a new one for fightin’ _his_ fights.”

“Tch. I said _try,_ didn’t I? You get all mouthy these days, do I gotta cut off your allowance again, Bel?”

Farlan trailed off from the ensuing wailing, descending to whining and bickering. The window Faye opened streaming in light tempted him. He didn’t get to drink up the sight of sky when they reached the surface; blinded white, he kept his eyes closed for half of the carriage ride, eyes struggling to adjust to the increased intensity of light. Like a moth to a lantern, Farlan drew close to the open window. His breath caught in his throat. The sky in the grasp of dusk, airbrush of clouds furled across blush and butter backdrop, blended in warmth as they stretch far beyond. Farlan craned his neck, almightily attempting to take it all in; the sight, the sense, the scent. The air smells different.

All his life, Farlan only knew of dirt. He was born in the belly of the Underground. From the womb of his mother, he only knew of the suffocating darkness, and it remains so after he grew past the fuzzy memory of an infant. All he knew was the air always smells like damp stone, like grim dirt, like putrefying dregs and stale sweat. Uncomfortably humid, viscid to the skin as if they’re all breathing through a thick, fetid cloth. Clogged and short, near retching with each intake. Exhale too long and not enough. He was taught to conserve air and to let the window open despite the danger of uninvited visitors; from bugs to thieves, to diseases. He never questioned why hunger-gnawed corpses littered the alleys, why they said it was far kinder fate.

Farlan never questioned it, because it’s something he accepted as reality. It’s something normal, to him, to everyone. People around him never mentioned of the world beyond the darkness, beyond the earthen womb that enclosed them –too busy trying to survive in cut-throat, suffocating city they live in. Too busy trying to breathe.

Mama told him about the surface, but because he was a child then, he thought it was just another fairytale she regaled him with to ease his growing anxiety over her declining health. Her body grew weaker and stiffer by the day, she couldn’t move without assistance, she couldn’t walk by the time Farlan’s eleven. It was humid in the underground, air was limited, but Farlan never realized how choking it was down there until his mother died. She left him enough money to survive the month, her last breath wasted to urge him to find work, to survive.

Now, Farlan knew that they weren't fairytales.

It’s different outside. On the surface. He doesn’t have to conserve his breath. How could a man not turn greedy with this much wealth in the air? He’s been living in a constricting womb, and this is what it felt like being birthed.

The kiss wind gave his cheeks felt cold. Farlan touched one, his fingers came back soaked. He furiously rubbed his face dry, looking behind his shoulders in case one of his friends caught him crying like a baby. The bickering had died down, Levi tsking over something he found behind the furthest bunk, Isabel hummed a song under her breath as she collected the blankets and undresses the pillows. He felt burdened seeing them.

 _I promised them._ Farlan gulped through his parched throat, remembering Isabel coming home bruised and sniffling stubbornly with one pigtail short, remembering Levi exhausted sighs when plans went to shit and becoming increasingly frustrated, remembering Faye who regaled them tales of the surface and his longing look when told them about…. A giant salt lake at the edge of the world. Faye promised he would bring them there, that they’ll get to see its magnificence. Farlan was more realistic, aiming for a goal closer to their grasps, but the tales Faye told only fueled his ambition, he began questioning everything and never accepted things as it is when he could've done something more.

 _One day we’ll get outta the trash heap and live above the ground,_ Farlan promised them _._ They’re on the ground now, no longer entombed within it like they’re dead already. _One step closer. Nothing’s gone according to plan before, now finally, it’s halfway succeeding._

Like hell he’ll let a wrench Faye thrown ruined his plans. And he’s not the only one.

“Levi,” Levi turned, raising an eyebrow in acknowledgment. “We don’t need to kill Erwin Smith.”

“After what he done? He ain’t gettin’ away unscathed,” the glint of his eyes reflect like a surface of polished knife, Farlan suppressed a shudder. Levi never does things in moderation, he never half-assed on how he felt and how he acted –he'll love deeply and hate fiercely. He’ll hold a grudge to the end of time, love savoring the pain he’ll inflict upon those who wronged him like saving the best part of a meal for last.

“It’s too risky! We’ve gone so far, after days of putting up a show to get Smith’s attention, and finally, we’re so close to our goal now! My blackmail plan is safer, I know it’s gonna work! If we kill him, the Scouts will go after us once we dipped!”

“Accidents happened all the time in expeditions,” Levi quipped lightly, contrasting with the heavy implication of his words. “Death’s a commonplace for the Scouts, yeah? You and Faye can sneak around all you want, but I’m here to get even with that blond jackass.”

Farlan almost let out a sigh when Levi turned away, but his voice once again cut through the air, sending cold dread grating down his spine. “I’ll wait for an opening, then I’ll skin the scalp off his head, saw his throat slow ‘till his head lolled off. I’ll kill that rat bastard, and I’ll make sure he’ll scream all the way to the gates of hell.” 

. 

Erwin’s pulse jolted off a beat.

The carriage dipped all of a sudden, trembling the windowpane, sending something in his chest to swoop down his stomach like a lump of lead hitting his bowels. Erwin’s teeth clattered from the unexpected pothole, internally calming down his suddenly kicking heartbeat. The feeling lingers for a while; a staining unease.

Commander Shadis tsk-ed his displeasure, “The road’s getting worse every time we went through it, a new day a new pothole. More accident hazard. Where the hell all those taxes went?”

The answer was obvious as daylight, but Erwin kept his retort to himself. Men like Lovof were not short in numbers within the Walls, the rich stayed rich by ensuring the poor stayed poor.

“Speaking of, as General Zackly had told us, the delayed expedition budget was finally approved,” Shadis folded his arms, scrutinizing his reaction. His eyebags had gone darker, cheekbones more prominent. He waited, staring down Erwin.

Erwin stayed composed, keeping his expression neutral. He didn’t bother feigning surprise, he already told Commander Shadis he intended to unplug the irritating block that kept their funding from flowing. He kept his words. “I see.”

“You’re not surprised,” the intonation dipped instead of rising, it came out more of a statement than a question.

“I’m just relieved,” and mildly suspicious. He kept his words, took him two weeks to deal with Lovof and getting the approval for the cooperation with Military Police for the Underground operation, but it was faster than he estimated. “I had already begun my preparations after all,” to implement his scouting formation. All they need to do is share the information to every Scouts, and train them accordingly.

“It appears that the leader of the faction opposing our operation has suddenly come around,” Shadis continued to beat around the bush, Erwin already tired of it, but he let the man nonetheless. He must maintain an amicable relationship and flawless rapport with his Commander, after all. “Councilman Nicholas Lovof held off the vote for our dissolution, the approval finally passed. But there’s no guarantee there’ll be a next time, the vote was merely held off. We’re not out of the woods yet.”

“Indeed. We have to produce significant results this term to change the situation.”

“A while ago, you told me you were certain the expedition would be approved. Which is why you’ve begun the preparations, regardless of our uncertain fate…” Erwin waited at the trailing words, it’s about time the Commander went to the point. Shadis huffed, scowling deeply, displeased and wary all at once. “You really went and did it, didn’t you? Taking the dirty methods to force Lovof to change his position.”

Let it not be said that Keith Shadis was a master of subtlety. “As we’ve discussed before, Lovof has strong connections with Lang Company, it’s easy to trace his dealings through the Military Police,” He indulged the Commander, omitting the rest of the details. The corrupt nature of the MP should be enough clue. “That’s all I’m willing to share, Sir.”

Shadis sighed, “Hn. Fine. I’m not going to pry more, better I claim ignorance to be safe. The Royal Capital is a bed of vipers, how the hell you managed to get out alive doing whatever you did, I will never know. But I’m glad you did, can’t afford losing one of my best men. Especially in this tumultuous time.” 

Tumultuous time indeed. It had been eventful since last year. Around the end of harvest season last year, there have been activities indicating a change in the seat of power within the government, which elicited a rising discontent amongst the councilmen. Beginning with subtle reforms of laws, mostly in healthcare and education –such as the new law pertaining the hospital fee adjusting to the citizen’s class status and income, improvement in the standard quality of physicians and medical staff, updating the school curriculum, a system allowing lower classes to attend school through charity funding by upper classes, and strangely enough, several new strict laws demanding improvement in managing every district's sanitation quality. The changes didn’t bring discord in the government or in the society as a whole whatsoever –at least, not yet; in fact, it improved them. All were initially accepting of it without a blink. But the changes continued on, slow as a snail’s crawl but gradual.

What had the council shaking in their boots were the recent changes pertaining to the economy. There’s been unease from activities of developing a new economy. Starting with the very newly-born tax reform, then there were talks of establishing a banking institution, and some even fear of a change in the financial system. That, also, affected inter-region trades. Erwin knew the market had been stagnating for decades, the economy was barely holding itself together by standing still. A certain change could wreak havoc upon its precarious position, but a stagnant market would rot the land and its people. A damn miracle it hadn’t ruined the kingdom for a century.

People of the Walls cannot abide to sudden changes, so these reforms and developments were strategically done like a natural progression in its slow pace. The nobility sitting in the council, however, had been highly disturbed, attempting to dredge a resemblance of control in disquiet. The thing was, nobody knew the mastermind behind this silent revolution. It split the council into parties, distrust even to those within the same circle. Allies could be spies. Speculations run rampant on who sided with the mastermind, and who’s been backing them to reform the system. It brought to light the incompetence of many members –not surprising. But concerningly enough, the King himself didn’t react much to these reforms. Remaining neutral.

Erwin had found all of these quite exciting, honestly –the educational reforms and medical advancements, in particular, made him let himself feel a smidge of hope. All the reforms led to one conclusion: improving welfare policies. If these continue, the policies would only strengthen, which meant a significant improvement in the citizen’s living conditions as a whole. The tax reform benefiting the lower classes would lower the poverty rates, improved healthcare meant higher life-expectancy, and while the education part would took a while to bear fruit, it’s promising.

However, reforms had yet reached and affected the military. So far there were no changes made to them (much to General Zackly’s relief and disappointment), so they were left as a cautiously curious and somewhat amused bystander watching the council shaking with their asses being lit on fire from underneath their cushioned seats.

Then, two months prior, a faction formed. Threatening the continuation of Survey Corps activities and permanently dissolute the branch entirely. Now that, was the change Erwin didn’t incline to.

“You might have to face repercussion for this, in the future,” Shadis continued. His shoulders sagged but tense, staring straight into Erwin’s eyes with his dark sunken ones. “No matter how careful, there are possibilities your independent action could be discovered, and it may affect not only you, but also our branch. Are you sure you’re prepared to pay your dues when the time comes?”

Not missing a beat, Erwin spoke, “Commander. When I entered the Survey Corps and fought the titans face-to-face, I learned exactly how perilous humanity’s situation is. Wealth, authority, lofty ideals… All of those would count for naught once the titans breached our walls. Which is why we…” the clacking of hoofs and graveling of turning wheels shuddered the carriage, a ghostly echo of that realization’s almighty force rattling Erwin’s being that day, the day he escaped the walls. Blood washed the forests and screams reverberated the very air. His fists firmed on his knees, muscles of his jaw and temple strained from his sheer ardor. “…can never abandon our efforts to take back this world from the titans, no matter what foul means we must use. For the future of humanity, come what may!”

Shadis shared similar notions to his, Erwin knew, he understood the price they must pay for the sake of their freedom –he merely lacked the resourcefulness.

The Commander visibly relented, defeated. Hand rubbing his temple down to his chin, wiping off traces of hesitation building into sweats. “That is true. Come what may, we must hold onto our hope for the future. I’m useless in politics, I trust you know what you’re doing, Smith. I will leave it all to you.”

Erwin nearly stumbled off his seat when the carriage abruptly halted, one foot stomped down to halt the rest of his tense posture from tilting completely. Shadis’ back also bumped audibly against the backrest. From the front, the coachman called, chipper, “We’ve arrived, Sirs!”

“Coulda been gentle 'bout it,” Shadis groused underneath his breath as a waiting soldier opened the door for them, giving them a salute and a greeting. The towering structure of the repurposed ancient castle greeted and encased them as Shadis climbed out of the carriage, Erwin followed. He saluted the Commander before turning on his heels and walked away, intending to get situated in his office.

“Section Commander Smith,” halted Erwin midstep, swirling back to face Shadis, “You may be prepared to face repercussion and incoming obstacles in your way, but exercise caution. You might face your match yet.”

Flitted across his thoughts like a sparrow gliding swift from view, a twin blots of verdant greens staring through the fog of dust. Of fearsome rumble within a voice smooth as silk, either shattering or toying with the wills of those caught in his words. Erwin’s right arm trembled in phantom pain, the twisted sinews and threat of dislocated joint. He didn’t clutch the arm, but it was a near thing. He saluted the Commander once again, “Sir.”

A nod from Shadis was dismissal enough. Erwin went past the gate, his stride assured and steady but his mind astray. He kept coming back to the suspicions that had been plaguing him, how the timings are peculiar. Nearly three months since the tax reform passed. Two months when the opposition faction formed and immediately awashed in unrest from something happening within the circle. Two weeks it took for his motions countering Lovof to bore immediate fruit; a week to gain the leverage, and another to have Lovof swayed. He ought to be pleased, but he expected at least months would be taken for the investigation and acquiring the objective alone.

Erwin couldn’t find out more, even from the spy Lovof sent within the ranks of Scouts Erwin had been using as his sources. When he finally got the documents to gain leverage over Lovof, he felt like he’s been walking upon footprints left on the ground for him to tread safely to where he wanted. The information in the documents was neat. Too clean. Like it’s been prepared and tied in a bow akin to a present gifted for him. All he needed to do was retying the strings left around, reattaching puzzles already figured out, to receive it.

His fists clenched tighter, steps harder, jaw tense. Someone knew what he’s been doing, what he’s after, and what for, then inclined to smoothen things out for him. The question, for what?

Erwin only grew more paranoid. This unnerving feeling of awareness playing as a pawn, for the invisible hands of a faceless chessmaster. Whoever they were, they had power, with far greater scope than he could ever hope for, greater resources, greater influence, and terrifying stealth to keep their activities under the radar. Could it be possible, that his mysterious ‘ally’ had a hand in the recent reforms of the administration system?

As Erwin tread the empty courtyard bathed in the golden shroud of the sinking sun, his eyes caught an inert silhouette at the opposite side. His steps faltered, at a peculiar sight. A soldier stood, stark from head to toe in pale grey and white, on the courtyard’s edge opposite to Erwin. His silhouette a bold play of shadow with light amongst the amber of dusk and the green of crawling ivy and dense vines skittering the castle’s stone surfaces, head covered in the hood of his grey hoodie while his uniform jacket draped over his elbow, the standard issue white pants brought emphasis on the figure’s height. Like a marble statue. But most peculiar was the bird –an owl? perched on his arm as if it belonged there, enjoying the ministration of rubbings on its feathered belly. The soldier crooned at it, incoherent but fond.

The owl’s head suddenly twisted, beady eyes meeting his point-blank. Erwin flinched in astonishment, his step completely halted.

Following the owl, the soldier finally caught sight of him, shadows cast from his hood overlapped his features, Erwin squinted but to no avail. He crooned again at the owl, rubbing its belly one last time before lifting his arm, giving an extra boost to elevate the bird into flight. Hooking Erwin’s eyes to follow. The owl hooted twice, circling overhead before soaring away, past the courtyard and past the towers. Disappearing from view. When Erwin retraced his gaze to the hooded soldier, the hood had fallen back onto his shoulders.

A persistent prickling of hundred needles shot through his right arm at the sight of a familiar face, standing idly in the open space, a considerable distance between them but Erwin recognized him still. Faye slipped his arms into the sleeves of his jacket languidly, fixated on wearing it right and picking off invisible lint instead of acknowledging Erwin’s sudden rigid apprehension. Every motion done in leisure like the moment is his to dictate, like time became his hostage and only let the world carry on when he wanted to. Unlike how the other three kept squirming their joints to ease off the stiffness out of the new garments on their formal introduction, the tan uniform suited Faye so naturally. The green tunic replaced by a grey hoodie, his hair remained free cascading down his shoulders and framing his striking face. He looked perfectly at home.

Even from far away, Erwin could make out the vividness of his green eyes. Searing right into his eyeballs. Faye didn’t look surprised, or maybe better at hiding it.

There’s only the two of them left. Faye staring at him, beckoning him.

They were at an impasse. None breaking it with a movement, no retreat, no advancement. Faye’s eyes entrapped his before Erwin could feign indifference and continued on his way, letting this moment passed as a simple passing encounter. Faye didn’t want that, it seemed, but he didn’t creep forward to meet Erwin halfway either. Erwin wanted to seize a strategic retreat. He’s not ready yet. He thought he had days to prepare, mapped out neatly the steps he would take to counter anything Faye would throw at him once the time of negotiation came, maybe even dug up something to use against him. He supposed to have the advantage in home field, but the arid terrain of stones and towering walls of the aging castle elicited a claustrophobic reaction out of him. Like Faye had him trapped, in Erwin’s own turf.

Faye's in control. He caught Erwin where he wanted him to be, confronted him before he could prepare himself, and this time there were no allies to back him. Faye got to stand there and made Erwin approach him. If Erwin retreated now, it would send a message. He’s unprepared, he’s weak. This was barely the second battle. His opponent will eat him alive next time they confront each other again.

Erwin picked up where he left off and moved forward. He might be at a disadvantage, but he’s still got a tool in his resource. He’s higher in the hierarchy of commands, and Faye, as a soldier, respected the chain of commands. If he played his cards right, this encounter could turn to his favor.

Faye saluted him when he got close enough, “Afternoon, Sir. Glad to have you and the Commander back safely from your visit to the Royal Capital Mitras.”

“Afternoon, Cadet Faye. I did not recall the Commander informed anyone of our departure?” They departed right after introducing the new recruits, those who knew were high ranking officers who knew better than to blabber their mouths off –especially with their low opinions on the four.

“The owl, Sir,” Faye smiled beatifically at the wavering of Erwin’s composure –eyes blinking bewildered and head jerked, not expecting that answer, “poor little thing swooped into the barracks all confused, I managed to calm it down so I bring it outside."

Two beats passed. Realizing he had to take initiative to coax more out of the man, Erwin cleared his throat. "I don't see how's that has any correlation with my question?"

"You didn't see the soldier greeting you at the front gate?" Eyebrows arched, Faye seemed like the answer was obvious, a jab to Erwin who couldn't figure out something seemingly simple and clear to him. "On my way here, I met him. He told me he was ordered by an officer to receive you and the Commander at the front, said you both just visited Mitras. Isn't that a logical course of events?”

“I see,” Of course. Logical. What did he expect, really? The owl tattled to the man? He had a feeling the other man began the answer like so to mess with him. “Quite the coincidence.”

“I heard, also, that the expedition was finally approved by the board,” Swiftly, Faye picked up the conversation before Erwin could steer it. “I’m guessing the visit was to receive the good news. It was delayed before, then?”

“It was, indeed,” Erwin said, carefully, putting his hands behind him. Faye was still an enigma, he might have some dealings with the Military Police and his own network of information, but it’s unlikely for even a resourceful engineer from the Underground to have connections in the government… Right? It’s a gamble, but Erwin weighed his next words, “There has been... unrest within the Royal Government as of late, things are changing drastically and upsetting the balance. One of the results was an attempt to halt the expeditions outside the Walls, claiming that the budget has better uses than being wasted on a ‘futile cause’.”

Blinking slow, Faye raised both eyebrows at him. Erwin challenged him with a thin, polite smile. He just unloaded a goldmine worth of sensitive information to a lowly _cadet –_ a former (suspected) renegade and a mistrusted one at that. He also threw Faye’s own taunting words in the Underground back at him. It’s a gamble. Erwin could either unveiled where Faye fits in the equation; forcing him to block and retreat by changing the topic so he either didn’t know of the matter, or he knew something vital but he couldn’t give himself away. Or, Erwin just threw oil to the fire he set upon himself. Well, if all hell breaks loose, Erwin could press court-martial with the shreds of evidence Faye hinted of his possible desertion from military –but that’s only the very last resort, he didn't want to lose a valuable resource no matter how bothersome. A stern reminder of probation would suffice, serving prolonged punishment as per regulations.

“But the approval was passed in the end, that’s relieving. I must say, Sir, you took a _risky_ _gamble_ there,” the words were pressed to indicate Faye was also referencing his bold confession, “manning an operation to recruit skilled criminals into the ranks, while the fate of this branch was still uncertain… Sounds like you’re certain councilman Lovof would change his mind.”

A pin dropped somewhere onto the floor, Erwin couldn’t hear it over the rushing pump of his heartbeat hitting his ribcage. They maintained an unwavering eye-contact, neither backing down. Faye seemed acutely aware of how his eyes’ unique coloring could affect the tide of conversation. The vividness wouldn’t relinquish its hold on the attention it garnered, forcing people to either look away, therefore defeated or weakened, or be entrapped and endure. His lower eyelids ever-slightly rose, indicating mirth –not to ease, but to tickle anxiousness in his opponent. Right now, they’re acid and burning Erwin’s with its intensity.

Suddenly, he felt naked; this confrontation might delve downhill into a physical one and he didn’t even have a weapon to defend himself with. In an empty courtyard, where soldiers around this time would be gathering either in the mess hall or the training field on the opposite end of the castle. Against a man who could snap thick metal bars in half as easily as snapping toothpick. It’s a perfect opportunity to subdue Erwin and took him for unpleasant questioning to get the objective.

He arched an eyebrow, masking his chilling trepidation, “Sounds like you know more than you let on, _Cadet_ Faye,” Erwin weaved slow to circle Faye, maintaining distance in the guise of intimidation. Emphasizing their differences in ranks and the area to make the point clear: this is a military territory, and Erwin is a high-ranking officer who had the power to ruin a man with backgrounds such as Faye –he couldn’t have been a legally licensed physician. One wrong move and it wouldn’t end well for him. “Now I wonder how a _back_ - _alley_ doctor such as you could find such sensitive information?”

"And I wonder what a _law-abiding_ , high-ranking civil servant such as you would do with such sensitive information. Now I see you like to throw it around like flyers to a freshly recruited back-alley doctor who's under _heavy_ scrutiny, Commander _,"_ said in such a deadpan voice, Faye adopted a look of a person completely done with the situation, the look wasn't even directed straight at Erwin, and Erwin already felt out of sorts. However, instead of further twisting the knife, Faye sighed, brushing a stray hair out of his face as he spun to follow where Erwin ended. They’re eye-to-eye again.

“With all due respect, Sir, I hate beating around the bush. I want to clear this ridiculous elephant out of the room: you and I both know who’s the real enemy here. That’s the true reason why you seek us, right?” He walked forward slow and measured like a stalking tiger, grazing Erwin’s personal space but never breaching, merely encircling. He shrugged, “Sure, you’re impressed with the skills my friends showed, but you wouldn’t bother coming down to Underground the first time if not for Lovof’s spy feeding you the information. You want to keep them close, so it's easier to keep them in line.”

“You’re not working for Lovof, then,” Erwin said, a bit faint. He should’ve expected to be lobbed a bombshell when he himself did it first. If they’re playing their cards in the open so blatantly then, “But your friends are. They’re here to steal the documents in my possession.”

“In the Underground, people serve themselves. No, they’re not working for Lovof; the man sent an envoy to contact them about a week ago, this would be around the time you managed to gain the upper hand on that noble, ‘cause Lovof ordered your death for a hefty sum –and, a citizenship on the surface,” Faye explained, settling in one spot. An arm-length gap between them. “That’s not enough to convince them. But they took it anyway, not for the promise of citizenship, but for the opportunity. Lovof warned them the Scouts will be coming for them, so the gate’s already unlocked. They want to steal the documents, but not to be handed to Lovof.”

“They planned to blackmail him, to ensure they got the citizenships and possibly more,” Erwin followed his line of thought, a bit impressed at the ambitious plan. But the self-detachment from the narrative told another story. “Clever. You have no hand in that plan, however.”

“No. I already know what goes on in that viper’s nest; Lovof’s is more dangerous than he let on. Got his grubby fingers in a lot of pies. One of them is the Lang Company –which has been devout against the economic reforms, especially the taxes and trades,” Faye revealed, arms folding. “I'm sure you're already aware of this. They got a lot of backings from the nobility who benefited from the stagnant one-sided economy, but the majority of merchants saw these reforms as an opportunity to improve their business and the market as a whole.”

Erwin suspected as much. Those changes in tax and trade policies are meant to mitigate the current precarious state, and if it continued to improve, it could become a remedy to the economic disparity in the Walls. Hellish task to do, but not completely unrealistic with the power and influence the party responsible had shown so far, along with the support of influential businessmen and the citizens as a whole benefited from it… No wonder the nobles would interfere.

“A way to sway the tides to their favor is to dissolve the Corps activity for good, so the budget can be used to fund their cause, and therefore, buying their way around so they can gain more favors and influences to retake vote majority in the council,” Erwin deduced, gaining Faye’s nodding assent. “Lovof’s the head of his house, with close affiliation to Lang Company. He’s a blue-blooded nobility who would ally with others of his ilk. So you’re saying Lovof was not only a leader of Corps dissolution faction… But also against the other reforms,” It's more information than he managed to gather in months. Then Faye _does_ have connections within the council.

“Did Lovof also the one opposing the new education curriculum, to change back to the old one? Or," eyes squinted, Erwin tried to shoot for a doctor's sensitive spot, "was he the one behind that particular mess last year in an attempt to prevent passing the healthcare bill?”

His aim proved true. Faye scoffed, scowling like a gnat had just landed on his meal, like he took personal offense to the statement –which, understandable, since he’s a doctor who came from the impoverished Underground. The passing of the bill was delayed for a while because the council raised a fuss, as the policy forced the wealthy to pay heftier price while the lower classes charged almost to none. Faye’s hands slid down his hips, as if expecting pockets to tuck them into. He settled with tucking his thumbs into his belt loops.

“ _Please_ , he didn’t think that far ahead. He’s just concerned with the ones disrupting his flow of cash. Those opposing other changes are many and scattered, easy to squash, but hard to track. Lovof’s a persistent, diseased rat, but a rat nonetheless.”

He’s resourceful enough to convince the courthouse of his credibility for those legal ownership documents, and privy to the legislative workings with enough political savvies to remain anonymous. Thinking over it, Erwin should’ve seen it before. Doctors made a good spy. They had the education and position unique to slip into and out of restrictive corners in society. “You’re the one who gathered all the data for the documents,” Erwin pried. “Left me breadcrumbs to gather and piece them together, it’s already whole.”

Faye rubbed the back of his head, frowning with lips pursed, “Like I've said, you’re the one who kickstarted it into motion, I just went ahead because I have more resources and connections, leaving you the materials you needed. It’s better to leave the documents in your hands. You planned to serve Lovof the long-overdue justice. After all, no point of letting a rat roamed around another day and let it spread more diseases when you can exterminate it.”

“You did all of that… for what reason?” It didn't make sense. Other than benefiting from the new tax policy, Faye had no reason to risk his neck for blackmailing a statesman and dissolve the faction. He’s a doctor and engineer from Underground, allied with notorious thugs but nothing else. A wiser man with such position would keep their head down. Unless he was actually a part of a bigger organized cause with a mission. A rebel group working to change the government. If that’s the case, he could’ve easily gathered the data and presented the documents himself or through another party he trusted, more trustworthy than a stranger like Erwin. Could it all be a gamble on Faye’s part? What was his aim?

“There’s been a lot of instances where Survey Corps is threatened with disbandment, not as severe or persistently constant as it was before the invention of 3DMG, but this recent one is too close from succeeding. I’ve predicted that this would happen eventually but not this… early… and that’s because these reforms destabilize power in the government and changing our society scared those greedy pigs to…” Faye trailed off, lips pressed into a thin line, conflicted and somewhat reprehensive. He visibly pushed the malaise off his mind, faintly shaking his head, “Nonetheless, it’s two birds in one stone for me: the anti-reform faction will crumble, and the Corps gets to breathe another day,” Erwin’s eyes widened. So Faye planned to infiltrate the Scouts’ ranks from the start.

“You entrusted the data to me, so Lovof targets me instead of you,” Erwin concluded. Faye threw him a mildly alarmed look, the first instance he’s actually caught off guard. “He employed Levi’s group because they’re notorious for using 3DMG in their operations, an enticing bait to reel me in. Which you’re affiliated with. You planned it all so you can infiltrate the Corps, and retrieve the documents.”

“That’s _way_ off track. I let you have the documents so you can bring down Lovof and saved the Corps from dissolution, not because—” Faye sighed, fingers rubbing between his eyebrows. His shoulders sagged, all the tension he’s bottled up finally leaked. “Look, my friends weren’t supposed to get caught up in all this. But I got no better options. It’s this, or they’ll do something extreme I can’t anticipate to mitigate. It’s the safer way to get them out of that dump, even if it means going through all this hassle.”

Oh.

It’s easy to forget the instances of Faye’s humanity. Erwin was too fixated on his acidic eyes and beguiling smiles, his beastly cunning and strength, to remember the way he altered all attention away off his friends onto himself solely; how he silver-tongued the three out of the blades against their necks, protecting Levi through show of strength, the genuine fondness he leaked from the banter shared between the four… 

A lone ambitious man gathered power for his self-betterment, but a man with people to protect would conquer the impossible. Yet often, the means they would resort into for the sake of their loved ones could besmirch their image. Erwin understood it well. Remembering the dream he and his father shared.

“Do the conditions for the 3DMG commission correlate with your plan to sabotage your friends’ blackmail scheme?” For the first time since their battle, Faye composure completely wavered, eyes widened and pupils shrinking, one foot dragged back. Erwin could breathe lighter, glad he managed to gather enough pieces from the conversation to construct his counterattack. “If they threaten Lovof now, it won’t end well for them, especially with Lang Company and anti-economic reform faction still hasn’t been dealt with. Not to mention the upcoming expedition now approved… You want to protect them.”

“...That’s part of it. They want this _so_ much, this chance to break out of the surface and finally walk under the sun. Nobody should be buried to rot all their lives before they even greeted death. That’s not living,” Faye pulled up his hood to cover it once more. “I can’t stop them from doing this, but they don’t know what they’re facing against. And Lovof’s not just a threat because he can bring harm upon my friends, but for what he’s attempting to do. Disbanding the Survey Corps would only drawback all of our progress to freedom, I truly mean it when I said I will fulfill my duty as I’ve taken the Wings of Freedom upon my back. I won’t let men like Lovof cease our attempt to advance. I won’t let anything prevent us to free ourselves from those Walls.”

Erwin felt his breath hitched. Under his hood, Faye’s jaw tightened, shoulders tense, eyes ablaze. There’s no ounce of his previous smooth wiles to elude his true intentions, it’s pure determination rippling throughout his body.

“I never believed that the cause you people are fighting for is futile. I know how different the air tasted out there. We are cattle entrapped within cages, waiting for inevitable doom. If we stay stagnant, the true enemy will breach the Walls and we’ll be helpless against it,” Faye raised his head, locking their gaze mercilessly. The green-blue brilliance of his eyes reflected Erwin’s image back to him. “Who do you think the true enemy is, Erwin Smith?”

Those eyes of his, looked like they could swallow the stars.

“You have no reason to trust me, but I have people who deserved better than living behind centuries of lies and paying for their ignorance in blood. Think of me as whatever vile being you suspected I am to be, I’d rather have my hands alone drenched red than having everyone else stain theirs. I will do whatever’s necessary to ensure a better future for our race. Come what may.”

 _I have met my match,_ Erwin let the realization sunk into his bones. Felt them thrum in excitement and trepidation. _My match was not an opponent I have to subjugate, but like-minded kin to stand united with._ He felt his lips quiver, jaw tightened to prevent the lining of his lips to curve into a smile. Mike oft told him his giddy smiles were quite a disturbing sight to witness.

“Come what may,” He echoed, the understanding connected between them, “for the future of humanity.”

Faye’s eyes dimmed, softened. The acidity lessened. For a brief moment they held stares, Erwin could feel the pleasant chill the blue-green color brought him, akin to dipping one’s legs into a lake on summer days. A sentiment passed, glass pane of the window between souls lowered. Faye looked at him like he only met him just now; a bit apprehensive, a bit curious, but raw with tentative trust every human show at the opening chance for friendship.

The moment ended when Faye turned away, ducked deep into the shadow of his hood, breaking contact first. Erwin felt torn between the satisfaction of victory and at loss for the loss of something delicate.

Faye glanced around the courtyard, Erwin spotted a couple of soldiers rounding the corner of open corridor lining the courtyard. Far from curious ears, but they’re still in the open.

Clearing his throat, Faye straightened his posture, formal and polite as a soldier would. “If you don’t mind, Sir, I would like to negotiate the terms for the new 3DMG commission with you now.”

Erwin briefly contemplated whether Shadis should be present, but he ultimately decided that they can always hold another meeting, after he and Faye smoothed over the rough edges. Erwin smiled, controlled but amicable, “Shall we take this to my office?”

“After you, Sir,” Erwin nodded, shouldering past Faye. Who easily caught up with his gait and matched his rhythm, side by side. Not following behind.

They march in tandem, together walking through an echoing stone corridor as the last light of the day is swallowed into the distant firmament, darkening the world.

.

In the end, Faye didn’t come back to the barracks. The talk didn’t happen.

Farlan had lain awake in his bunk, surrendered to the drag of slumber while Levi remained vigil till the early risers yawned awake. He knew that, because Levi looked even more constipated than he usually was, scowling so severely he scared off everyone else from using the communal showers until both of them were done.

The soldiers already soiled their pants yesterday night from attempting to give the two of them a ‘warm welcome’ into the Corps, only for Levi to reamed them all a new one after their dirty laundries and the horrendous clutter they tidied. Farlan should’ve brought snacks watching that played out; it’s like back in Underground all over again, shaking up some lowlifes to earn a living.

There’s already a queue to the communal showers when they exited, Levi subjected them all under one of his nastiest glare.

“Clean after yourselves when you’re done,” he snarled to the crowd, “or I’ll clean the kneecaps from your legs. Clear?” The soldiers nodded frantically, then quickly scattering to avoid a Levi on a warpath

“Well damn,” Farlan grumbled a step behind Levi, drying his hair with a towel. “So much for that talk.”

“If you want to start shitting in the morning, do it in the damn toilet, Farlan,” Levi growled, buttoning up his new dark blue shirt. Since they only came here with a couple of clothes and change of underwear, they resorted to plundering the barracks whilst they clean –a fee for their service, Levi said.

Though, raiding for clothes Levi’s size was an ordeal all on its own. If it fitted his broad shoulders, the sleeves were too long; if the sleeves snug around his wrists, the hem dangled precariously above his hips; if it covered his hips, his chest nearly burst out of the buttons. Farlan couldn’t empathize with Faye despairing over Levi’s broad and muscular everything but vertically challenged stature until then, always complaining about it as he tailored the clothes they got to Levi’s size. In the end, they've chosen a few clean button-up shirts Levi’s physique wouldn’t tear, and cut the too-long sleeves to fit his wrists.

“He didn’t come back to the barracks last night, probably knew you’ll be waiting to corner him. Where do you think he went?”

“If Faye doesn’t wanna talk then fine, I ain’t gonna waste my breath for that stubborn bastard.”

Pot called kettle black. Farlan rolled his eyes heavenward, throwing his arms in the air exasperatedly, “You should be more concerned about it, Faye could’ve passed out somewhere in the castle! He can’t stay awake in the night! What if he’s ended up in some corner and light can’t wake him? He’s virtually dead!”

“Good fuckin riddance,” Levi spat under his breath. Though, his brows knitted as tight as fists clenched around the red scarf he’s tying around. His eyes a bit glassy from lack of sleep, so used to be lulled into sleep by the security of another beside him in bed. “He ain’t no dumbass, though sometimes he can be dense, he’s gon be fine. Probably with Isabel right now.”

Farlan stopped in his tracks, they met gazes at the same time. “…Do you think he really went through Isabel’s suggestion back in the carriage to pass off as a woman? I mean, the women’s barracks definitely cleaner, and the showers would be nicer.”

Levi snorted, “After the whole brothel fiasco a year ago? Faye rather downed his own poison than touch a corset and petticoat ever again.”

“We really should’ve taught Isabel how to stage a con better before we let her went on a solo project, and Faye’s gotta learn how to say no to her,” Farlan quipped, reminiscing that particular incident. Faye didn’t agree to crossdress, Isabel actually asked his participation as a getaway bodyguard, but he wouldn’t let Isabel placed herself at risk playing courtesan just to pull off the con. All went smoothly until Levi and Farlan stumbled on the scene, a misunderstanding ensued. It was hilarious in hindsight, after they got through the whole mess with the pimp who turned out to be the leader of a rival gang. Even worse after Faye shed the disguise and the guy’s _still_ attracted to him.

“Faye nearly skinned you alive after you got the dress ripped and stained bloody from punching off all that pimp’s teeth. You got drunk and whined to me 'bout it ‘til you passed out _‘_ cause he basically kicked you to the doghouse,” Faye borrowed the dress from someone else apparently. He had to replace it, and that thing was _silk._

“Reckon we agreed it’ll stay between us till ya kick the bucket. And for the record, I did the world a service getting rid of that _germ._ Faye coulda caught a nasty disease if I didn’t interfere.”

“Hm. Suree.”

Levi scowled at Farlan’s eyebrows wiggle, “Just– let’s just go.”

He shouldered past Farlan, who looked back to the congregating soldiers a bit wary –they didn’t pay attention to both of them thankfully. Swatting off hesitation, he dogged Levi’s steps a few seconds behind.

“You know we’re under probation right?” He said lowly as they exited through the door, “Flagon said we can’t go anywhere without an escort.”

“Flagon can eat my dead skin cells for all I care. We just gotta beat the rest to the mess hall, so walk faster.”

It didn’t take too long to find Isabel, if anything, she found them first. As they made their way to the direction of women’s barracks, from the other end of the corridor, there she leaped in from a window like a wildling breaking into civilization, rolling off her crashing fall expertly. They mutely watched Isabel crouched with back flat against the wall, right under the windowpane she jumped through. She peeked outside, sighing in relief at whatever she’s running from didn’t seem to catch her.

“Oi,” Isabel yelped, leaping a foot off the ground at Levi’s greeting. “What did you get yourself into this time, brat?”

“Nuthin’!” She protested with a huff, stomping her foot. Her face quickly morphed into elated relief, though. Running to them, “Thank Sina I found you two! Ugh, the women’s barracks was a madhouse! They kept tryin' ta get chummy with me! It’s annoyin! Callin' me cute doll and sum shit.”

Not surprising. Isabel's waif-like figure and big eyes often got her mistaken younger than she really was, cute was the right word, but not for describing her actual personality. She's a born delinquent. “Can’t be worse than the men’s. I know I said don’t get attached, but doesn’t mean you gotta be hostile with them, Bel,” Farlan patted off hays from her shoulders and hair, which looked like a crow’s nest haphazardly tied into a toddler’s attempt at a straw doll. “So, what were you running from?”

“Sum chick kept naggin’ and followin’ me ‘round like she’s my momma. Y’know her, she caught me back Underground. Banana, or sumn,” She shrugged, ducking away from Farlan’s ministrations, only stilling when Levi delicately pulled her hair ties. Fingers brushing through her red hair, styling it properly. “Lost her halfway through the stables tho.”

“No wonder you smell like hay and horse shit. Do you even bathe? Open your mouth.”

“I brushed ‘em teeth, I swear on the Walls, Levi-Bro!” She withdrew from Levi, grumbling, only one pigtail done. She grumpily swiped the other hair tie off from Levi’s offered hand. “Anyway, where’s Faye? I thought all’s settled by now?”

“Huh? He’s not with you?” Farlan said, alarmed.

“Nnno..?” Isabel visibly shrunk, voice lilting and trailing off into timidity, eyes traveled from Farlan to Levi then back again to Farlan. “Why would he– I mean, y’know I’m just foolin’ back in the carriage right? Faye woulda poison himself way ‘fore he acts all lady-like again.”

Shit. He glanced at Levi, who had become unnaturally stiff, breathing too light you would’ve thought he’s not breathing at all. “He could be around somewhere in the other barracks,” Farlan assured them, “convinced the other soldiers he got assigned a bunk there probably, so let’s check–”

“Hey! You three! Stay where you are!”

The command triggered their Flight instinct, hard-wired into their brains as a survival mechanism living in the life of crime at the sound of authority and possible arrest. Isabel, the one most ruled by her impulses, leaped and sprinted faster than any of them, leaving a visible trail of dust. Levi snapped his leg out faster though, tripping Isabel and caught her by her waist mid-air at the same time before she could go any farther, now she’s dangling in one of his arms like carrying a sack of birdfeed. Farlan managed to override his reflex just in time before his body could throw itself out of the nearest window, he redirected the aborted movement to spin on his heels, facing the perpetrator of this chaos.

The soldier reached around the same height as Farlan, hair shiny and styled so slick his head looked like rounded and polished coal, combed to the side away from his eyes. Expression stern and chin high. The swinging gait he adopted carried air of urgency. The soldier pointed an accusing finger at their general direction, “You all are under probation! Didn’t the Captain tell you not to go around without a soldier keeping you in check? Don’t think you can get away making trouble on your first day just because you’re new here!”

From under Levi’s arm, Isabel clicked her tongue, jutting her bottom lip out with head tilted up, looking down on the soldier even in her current position. “Who’s this stuck-up shi–”

Farlan coughed loud, twisting his facial muscle to express a sheepish look that hopefully passed as sincere, “Ehem! Sorry about that! We don’t know who we should be reporting to! And we were looking for our friend, he–”

“I didn’t ask for your excuses,” the soldier cut off, with a sharp flat-palmed hand gesture to match. “We’ll discuss the proper measures to deal with this breach of probation rule later, now I implore to follow me to the mess hall.”

“And _you_ are…?” Levi’s voice austere from teeming ire, expression terrifyingly blank. The soldier just earned himself a place on Levi’s shitlist, for sure.

“M-my name is Sairam,” the soldier gulped, but stubbornly didn’t cut away from Levi’s stare, Farlan had to give begrudging props where it’s due. The guy got balls, at least. “I am a member of the squad under Captain Flagon’s command, in other words, I am your squadmate,” he didn’t show disdain at the fact, neither does elation though, “the Captain had requested me to find and escort you all to the mess hall, as you were not present when I checked the men’s second barracks –where you were assigned to, I’m sure.”

“We kind of, uh, short on one person?” Farlan scratched his cheek with one finger, now genuinely a bit flustered. “You don’t happen to know where he is, do you?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. Cadet Faye is already present at the mess hall, with Captain Flagon,” Sairam jerked his head, already walking away, “Now, c’mon. Let’s not make the others wait much longer.”

Isabel muttered a few choices of words Farlan wished he could utter, Levi let her walked the ground again. “Ugh, he napped on a bed of rock or sum shit? What a stiff.”

“He and Flagon probably cut outta the same cloth,” Levi remarked.

Farlan curtly shushed them, “Remember, behave. And, watch how you talk.”

“Ain’t nuthin’ wrong with how we talk,” Isabel hissed, bristling.

“Here, it is. They’ll look down on you ‘cause of our speech, it’s bad enough they think less of us ‘cause where we’re from,” Farlan griped, teeth clenching. He wanted to punch each of the mugs who looked at them cold yesterday after they all went back to the barracks from dinner –before Levi cowed them into submission– but he got better self-control than that. He could endure glares and jeers, nothing could faze him since he’s born and trove in Underground, but they’re on the surface now. It hit different. “I won’t let them look down on us.”

Isabel muted after that, frustration seething in waves from her body. In no time at all, they reached the mess hall. Soldiers scattered but dense across the commodious space, their chatters jumbled into indistinctive rabble in the air, warmed from the congregating presence of life, smelling vaguely of a warm meal. Farlan flinched when his stomach churned loudly. Ah damn, that’s embarrassing.

Sairam blinked at the sound, he looked back at Farlan, whatever stiffness he upheld until now dissipated, he actually looked human now. “Let’s get you something to eat first, Captain won’t mind,” he guides them lining up to get their share.

The food expired whatever appetite Farlan mustered a few minutes prior, the grub on his tray looks dubious; the warm soup is grey-ish, goopy, with a texture of bad acne scars. Pair of bread buns they got were heavy and harder than a plank, he prayed the butter he swiped would be effective against them. Levi brought one bun to eye level, hand trembling around it –Farlan realized he’s trying to crush it. And _failing._

Sairam’s face crumpled in commiserating pain at the attempt, “Yeah, I know. Word of advice: the soup helps, and if you can, swallow immediately.” 

“That’s reassuring,” Farlan muttered, he checked the wooded mug in case it got a stain on the bottom. “What about the drinks?”

“Either ginger ale, or water. I… personally suggested water. The people in charge of today’s kitchen duties I trust with my life outside the Walls, but not when it comes to food.”

“All my years rottin’ down that filthy ghetto,” Levi groused lowly, “from bullets to monthly epidemics, nothin’ coulda done me in. And now, I’m gonna meet my death from either food poisoning, or choking on _wholegrain bread._ ”

“What a way to go, huh?” Farlan sniggered feebly.

Behind them, Isabel stifled what suspiciously sounded like a sob, whispering, “I missed Faye’s food already,” Yeah, they’re all definitely spoiled rotten from Faye’s cooking. “Even Levi-bro’s _smashed_ potatoes with raisins sounds good right now.”

“Don’t let Faye heard you said that, we wouldn’t hear the end of it. Again.”

“Faye was being overdramatic,” Levi protested, eyes rolling. “Nothin’s wrong with mixing raisins into mashed potatoes.”

“To heathens like you? Sure,” Farlan zipped away before Levi could kick his ankle.

Speaking of Faye, Sairam led them through the space between wooden benches and long tables to ones occupied by their missing member, accompanied by none other than Flagon Turret. Facing each other from across the table, they’re discussing something calmly, somewhat amicably too, Flagon actually smiled (albeit begrudgingly, still trying to maintain his disdainful scowl) at whatever Faye’s said with an accompanying hand gesture. He’s wearing the hoodie from yesterday, hair still free, getting into his eyes and almost covering his entire face –maybe that’s the reason why Flagon insisted on maintaining a scowl.

“Captain Flagon, I brought them,” and any semblance of smile melted, now a full-blown scowl in its place. Flagon regarded them with squinting eyes, wordlessly waving for them to take a seat. Sairam took one beside Flagon, filling him in with the details. Isabel practically pounced onto Faye’s right side, whining into his arm about poisoning and getting starved.

Levi stiffened, eyes darting from Faye pacifying Isabel to the empty space beside him, hesitating whether to claim it or not –if the situation was different, Levi wouldn’t hesitate at all. Farlan sighed, knocking his shoulder softly against Levi’s before taking the empty space, allowing Levi to take his left. Levi gently knocked their shoulders in disguise of dropping his tray on the table. Never let it be said Farlan isn’t a good bro.

Flagon nodded at the end of Sairam’s report, the Captain sighed, “Right. Well. I let it slide today,” Sairam’s jaw dropped, the Captain waved it off. “This is your first day, I need you all to focus on your training. It’s extremely vital for all of you to understand the new formation, especially since you four are specifically assigned to be in this expedition to test the formation in a real battle.”

Great. Freshly recruited, completely inexperienced, and ready to be thrown to their deaths in an experimental expedition. Farlan could see why the Corps wasn’t exactly a popular career choice for graduated trainees. He couldn’t wait to bail outta this madhouse with the documents.

“Sir,” Farlan raised his palm up, “if I may ask, what is this new formation you spoke of?”

“Ah. The long-distance scouting formation designed by Section Commander Erwin Smith,” the spoon in Levi’s hand halfway from scooping up the soup halted, he’s listening intently. Flagon stared them down under his nose, fingers steepled against lips, annoyingly confident, “In the past, we used a tactical formation that allows us to kill as many titans as possible, basically converging close to lure titans and kill them as they come, with Commanding officers at the helm to guide the direction of the army. This tactic is flawed, obviously, high death rate and all that. Now, this long-distance formation, focused instead on _minimalizing_ titan encounter as much as possible.”

“I’m assuming the Scouts would be spread out at a great distance to cover more grounds, right?” Farlan reflexively flinched at Faye’s voice right beside his ear, he got a voice like a calm before the storm that got people paying attention with apprehension. “Like the name itself, if the Scouts are spread loosely, the titans won’t target the whole army. I’m _guessing…_ the First Squad led by the Commander would be the ‘brain’ that guides the formation at the helm, while Scouts at the far border of the formation would be the first to encounter titans. They would alert the helm so the formation can change direction to avoid titans. Logically speaking, it’s gonna work like a body's sensory system. If we implement such tactics, it would require a long-distance signaling system.”

“Err…” Flagon’s air of superiority flagging, darting his eyes from Faye to dumbfounded Sairam, then to the rest of them –Farlan gave him a ‘just roll with it’ shrug, before attempting to rip his bread to eat, knowing Faye would do his _thing,_ and if anyone bothered to listen there’ll be no eating at all _._ Isabel herself already chowing down her soup and bread with inhuman speed, probably to bypass the taste. “Yes. That’s… spot-on, actually. I don’t know what sensory system is exactly, but yes. And we’re going to use the flare gun for signaling. Red for titan spotting, black for the abnormal titans, orange for an emergency, blue for a retreat. The Commander uses a green flare to signal changing direction, and like a chain reaction, the Scouts on the direction the flare is shot would then signal with another green flare and so on,” Flagon gestured with wiggling his fingers, “domino effect.”

“Ah. I see. Well, the sensory system is basically our body’s way of sensing… stuff. And how our body will react to it. If we touch something hot, or painful, or even cold, we’ll reflexively retract our body away from direct contact with it. We sense intrusive sensation through neurons, which will send a signal to the brain, and the brain would signal the body to react and–” Faye frowned at the blank bewildered stares the two in front sports. He kissed his teeth, “Think of our whole body as the whole formation, skin as the outermost squads, the formation’s helm as our brain, and titans as the intrusive sensation. The signal flares act as the neurons, sending signals back and forth from skin to brain and to brain to the rest of the body, and the titans– You know what, I’m getting off-track. My apologies, please continue. _Sir.”_

Flagon blinked out of the trance, scowling at Faye diverting himself away from attention, calmly sipping his ginger ale –his face scrunched at the taste. Farlan hid a grin into the slurping of his soup (with a grimace at the nasty texture and spicy kick), Levi and Isabel followed his example with different methods. Faye getting off tangent then waved it off mid-lecture to confuse people was nothing new to them.

“You like being a smartass, huh, Cadet? Back on topic, yes. That’s the formation in a nutshell, but that doesn’t mean you can sleep through the upcoming lecture about it. The next two and a half months would focus on practicing it ‘till you can do it blindfolded.”

Farlan raised his palm again. Flagon exhaled long-sufferingly, “Just _ask_. The formal briefing won’t start ‘till eight, no need to raise your hand, Church.”

He smothered his face into a politely blank mask, clear from the jittering snicker threatened to burst into the muscle. Levi poked a thumb up under the table for him, just within the edge of Farlan’s vision. “Will the Corps send the whole force in this expedition? I mean, it’s kind of a waste, since it’s just to test the formation. No offense, Sir. Just curious.”

“Of course we won’t be using the whole Corps, only half. It’s protocols,” Sairam’s jaws clicked audibly right after, seeking Flagon’s approval to continue in his stead. With a nod from cross-armed, reclining Flagon, Sairam elaborated, “On monthly expeditions for recon, we only send a part of our forces –about a quarter or third, usually, led not by the Commander, but high-ranking officers like Section Commanders. Big expeditions –the important ones, usually a couple of times a year if we’re lucky– require the participation of the all available field personnel and the Commander. We will deploy half of our forces in this expedition because we’re not just going to test the formation, it also doubles as an expansion and research mission. See if we can establish more supply stations and checkpoints outside the Walls, or if there’s something new the research division can play with.”

“You got a research division?” Levi said, making Farlan flinched again from the sudden break of silence. Faye was the groan of brewing typhoon, but Levi is the sudden rumble of thunder rattling your heartbeat. Getting sandwiched between them is like bracing for a lightning strike. “For what? Dissecting titans?”

Flagon gave him a sharp, wide-eyed look, eyes darting to the halls’ closed double doors then back again, shoulders suddenly tense like bracing for impact. Sairam made a pinched expression, like he’s remembering something excruciatingly embarrassing, “That's one of example, yes. The core idea of Survey Corps is, after all, to know more about the outside world and the titans. How they came to be, how to permanently exterminate them, to finally reclaim our world.”

Faye hummed, Farlan glanced at him warily, the long and deliberate hum was not a good sign. “Say, this… research division, how exactly they conduct titan research on expeditions? We can’t exactly take a breather to approach a titan long enough to examine them while not getting eaten. And how far they’ve gotten with it? What have they found out so far?”

Flagon scoffed, “Course you’d be interested. You’re a doctor, right? An engineer too… With all that rambling out of the blue you got going on, and what a mess you look, like some kinda hobo, you’ll fit right in with the rest of them lunatics.”

Away from direct view, Farlan pinched Levi’s side before his twitching hand could swipe Flagon’s steaming ginger ale and threw it at his face. Faye smiled, thin and smooth, eyes half-lidded while chin propped on his palm, “Of course I’m interested. It’s fascinating for doctors, to know more about titan’s anatomy and how their body differs from us functionally. We’re almost alike, humans and titans. I’d _love_ to have more insights into their biology. Who knows? Maybe I know something important about titans that could be vital to cut the distance between us and the truth.”

Sairam coughed into his fist, “Erm, well– Faye, right? If you’re interested to get in touch with the division, I implore you to exercise caution. The person responsible for the research squad is quite a… bizarre character. You might even say they’re dangerous. But! Not on purpose! It’s just that, they tend to get carried away with their research, it would unnerve others.”

“What’s so dangerous about some eccentric scientist?” Levi arched a challenging, skeptical eyebrow. Farlan believed Levi had no rights to say that, considering he’s been living with one for years _willingly_ and _happily_ , which made him a lunatic himself. “So, the nerd’s a complete lunatic. Nothin’ we can’t handle.”

Beside him, Faye shuddered, turning his face away with hair obscuring it from view. Farlan guessed it might be the grey soup finally taking effect.

Out of nowhere, the world as if preparing to almightily burp and blow them off the ground.

A series of thundering boom rattled the air, like gunshot repeatedly fired in quick succession, like the drumming of a marching army or persistent knocking– getting louder and louder as seconds passed, echoing on stone– it’s getting closer, Farlan realized. He looked around, trying to find the source of such racket. It’s not in the mess hall. Along with Levi, Isabel, and Faye, they turned their heads to the closed double doors, anticipating in half-confusion half-dread. Though, the rest of the soldiers didn’t even grace the sound with a slight acknowledgment, peacefully minding their own business.

“Now you’ve done it,” Flagon grouched, “you’ve summoned the Devil.”

“Wha–”

The doors jolted with a deafening, rattling _bang!_ followed by a loud, distinctively human, pained yelp, the wood shuddering uneasily but holding on to its frame steady. It remained closed despite the tremendous impact.

Silence.

A beat passed before everyone carried on, eating and drinking leisurely like it’s a common occurrence. Faye slurped his ginger ale a slight noisily, “Look at that,” he began, eyes shining with mirth, “Doors’ not even barred. Impressive.”

One of the doors finally swung open, revealing a person in soldier uniform under a stained apron, hair askew haphazardly tied into a ponytail. They came in staggering, waved at everyone and no one in particular at the same time, grinning sheepishly.

“I’m fine everyone! Carry on with your breakfast! Hope you like it, it’s my new Special Soup recipe!" Ah. That completely dashed the remaining appetite Farlan maintained. "Wait– why am I here again? My head hur– aH!” the person scrambled behind the door again, something metal clink-clanking and scraping against the stone floor harmonizing with hissed cusses. The soldier stumbled hurriedly back into the mess hall, arms full of– “ALRIGHT! WHERE IS THE NEW GUY?! THE ENGINEER! I NEED A NAME AND FACE _NOW_! FLAGON! WHERE ARE YOOUUU!”

The named man himself already buried his face to his palms, groaning like his teeth getting pulled. Levi stared at the bumbling maniac with thinly-veiled disgust; the hair, the oil and dirt marring their arms and clothes, and how they left questionable substance from their soles as they walked were big tells.

“Faye,” Levi began, low and slow, the first time of the day he addressed Faye. “On my mark, dive below the table and crawl your ass outta here. That's no eccentric scientist. That’s a mad, deranged nitwit.”

Faye raised his arm, waving it in the air in a too-obviously obnoxious way, “Here! Flagon’s squad is over here!”

“ _Motherfucker_ ,” Levi said, flat but earnest.

The person immediately thundered through the tables, nearly hauling a bench full of people away in their hurry to them. Farlan belatedly connected the terrifying sound just then with the soldier’s footsteps. Heavy and rapid, like it’s clapping to announce their approach.

Sairam and Flagon hopped to the side on time before the wild soldier threw themselves onto the bench, only reflexes saved all of their breakfast from meeting untimely messy end from the 3DMG they slammed upon the table, complete with the gas cylinder clattering and rolling noisily. It’s the gear Faye had upgraded.

“SO!” the soldier rubbed their palms together, grinning so widely gums peeked, Farlan frowned warily at the mad glint in their shaking eyes behind oval glasses. “Which one of you is the ingeniously insane engineer who’s responsible for this _beautiful, absolutely gorgeous_ masterpiece laid out on the table? I’d like to shake your hand. Please.”

Without missing beat, Faye offered his hand, “I am. And thank you, I worked my ass off for my babies. You are…?”

“Hanji. Hanji Zoë,” they clasped Faye’s hand tight with both oil-stained hands, shaking it vigorously like shaking dice. “Section Commander of Fourth Squad, also known as the research division –sweet Rose, your hand’s really hot, are you sick? Oh! And what’s your name, fellow lover of science?”

“Faye, just Faye,” to Farlan’s shock, Faye smiled –not the ‘I know your dirty secret and I will ruin you with it’ smile or the ‘I’m being patient with you out of the generosity of my heart’ kind, but an oddly wistful smile. He’s looking at Hanji like they’re a breath of fresh air, and he’s been waiting to breathe it, “Nice to meet you, Section Commander Zoë. I’m not sick, I just have a… abnormally high metabolism.”

“Just call me Hanji! None of that silly formalities! Oh, that explains it! I read somewhere people with high metabolism got higher body temperature from burning the fat off –lucky you. Hmm. _Faye_ ,” Hanji rolled the name like savoring rare sweets, eyes glimmering with fascination, head tilted to the side. “Faye!” they exclaimed, as if establishing it officially. “A sweet name! Like ‘fairy’! Do you know fairies came from another world to kidnap human babies and trade them with fairy babies and that baby grew up acting all weird ‘cause they’re not human? Though, you don’t look like a ‘Faye’ to me.”

While the rest of them still processing the bouncing, rapid word-vomit, Faye didn’t have such difficulties. Rigid as stone, Faye had become, the smile crystalized and cooled. Carefully, he said, “Is that so? Then, what do you think I look like?”

Hanji tilted their head, from one side to the other, taking their time whilst humming. “Not sure… If I can just…” a finger slipped between the long strands covering Faye’s face, brushing it to the side, tucking it into the shell of his ear. “Oh. Wow. Eyes.”

Farlan’s eyes flickered towards an ominous crackling noise beside him. The scarred, pale hand balled into a fist on the table cracked each knuckle white, crunchy like snapping twigs. Levi eyed Hanji like some persistent stain a bottle-worth of bleach couldn't erase. It's bad enough Levi was high-strung from being in unfamiliar territory, surrounded by people he couldn't trust or predict, now somebody had to carelessly infringe upon something ( _someone)_ important to him. A perilous breach on his comfort zone.

Hanji didn’t seem to realize the danger they’re in, instead, too busy steadily leaning closer intruding on Faye’s personal bubble. Practically sprawling on the table, opening their mouth into a wide ‘o’, eyebrows raised in wonder. Yeah, this one definitely belongs in the loony bin.

Even more shocking, Faye didn’t point it out to draw them away from his space. He sputtered into short snickers, “I do hope I have those, wouldn’t be able to see if I don’t.”

“Not with these bangs you don’t! Thinking for a trim, maybe? Shame to keep all that,” Hanji dramatically gestured to his partially covered face, “from public!”

Faye shook his head, “No. I still need them to be this long. I usually put them up away from my eyes, but,” he brushed the stray hair from his nose, only for it to fall back where it was, “I lost my hair tie since yesterday, and Isabel here doesn’t bring spares.”

“I heard about it from Mike, he said Erwin got you good,” Hanji winked playfully. Levi's entire knuckles crackled simultaneously at the mention of a certain name. They let go one hand to reach into their back pocket, pulling out a thin hair tie. “Here! You can use mine! Take it as a token of friendship, yeah?”

Faye murmured a ‘thanks’, plucking it from Hanji’s offered palm. Finger-combing his hair back, out of his face completely, and tying it into his usual manbun. Now, he looks familiar. Less of a hobo and more like a rugged, handsome chad –Farlan thanked the goddesses above Faye was such a recluse and too busy to socialize properly in the ghetto, or he would’ve gotten himself kidnapped weekly in Underground to be either sold or something far worse. At Faye’s face reveal, Sairam gaped like a red carp out of water, flushing from forehead down to neck, while Flagon physically reared back like somebody hit him with a two-by-four right on the top of his skull. Hanji simply nodded in approval.

“I think that hairstyle is cool! It feels like you’re a little disheveled, or that you’re trying so hard, so _busy_ , that you don’t care too much about your appearance!” Hanji reached out again, cupping Faye’s face and tilting it to the side, the angle highlighted his jawline. Hanji’s thumb even brushed Faye’s bottom lip, then his eyebrows, down to his cheekbones. And Faye just _let them_. “Faye is too sweet of a name for you, no offense. You look more like a… I don’t know… Back in my hometown, some men hunt for a living, they kept their hair long ‘cause they always forgot to cut them if they don’t got a spouse at home to do it for them. So I guess… you’re not a fairy, you kinda remind me of a hunter!”

His facial muscles squirmed under the palms, uncomfortable more at Hanji’s words than their ministrations. “We’re getting off-track, Hanji. What was it you were here for?”

Finally, at the end of his wits, Levi’s hand reached out like talons and forcibly separated the intruding touches, glowering at Hanji. “Get your filthy paws off his face. Do you even bathe, _ha?_ Coulda spread deadly epidemic with your deplorable hygiene, shitty glasses.”

“Owowow, you got a mean grip, there!” Hanji flapped their stinging hands, still grinning. Levi growled at them, relinquishing his deadly hold, wiping his hand with a napkin. Hanji blinks at the three of them, as if realizing they exist just now. They proved themselves to be either more of a maniac than presumed, or just plain thick idiot, by extending a hand in front of Levi’s face. “Hi, what’s your name, grouchy?”

“None of your business. Buzz off,” Levi slapped the hand away, “and don’t touch Faye again, he doesn’t like being groped and shit. You’re lucky you get to keep all your fingers.”

“Oi! Show some respect!” Flagon barked, shaken out of his shock, “They’re still your superior officer! A Section Commander!”

“This quack’s a commanding officer?” Isabel garbled from her mouth half-full with chewed bread, leaning away but sticking to Faye’s shoulder. “No wonder y'all always short on fresh recruits.”

Before Flagon or Sairam could harshly berate her, Farlan cleared his throat, “We’re the new recruits, Sir- er- Ma’am? Uh, Section Commander. My name is Farlan Church, this is Levi,” he gestured to the glowering man on his left, “And the redhead is Isabel Magnolia.”

“I know, I was there right front when you guys were introduced! Still, nice to meetcha all! And just Hanji, geez, don’t be so stiff, Farlan. Thanks for reminding me though, Levi, I need my hands free for— ergh– This! Erh– sorry, hold on– uuugghhh-- Ha!” Hanji hauled the 3DMG from somewhere under them, plopping it right in front of Faye’s and Farlan’s tray, jostling the soup splashing onto the wooden table. “This! I’ve been running tests on them, and the _things_ you did to them are mind-boggling! The whole core design, the gas cylinder, the wire mechanism, _the harnesses!_ How did you come up with those?! And how did you managed to replicate and upgrade the black box?! Nobody but engineers from Industrial City knows the exact technique for it! Not to mention illegal too, but I’m not a snitch, honest! From fellow law-breaker to another.”

“Breathe, Hanji, breathe,” Faye shook their shoulders, Hanji inhaled deep and rasped, chest bloated, then exhale like an explosion. Faye pushed them down back to the bench, and passed them a mug of water –Farlan’s, much to his annoyance– Hanji gulped it down greedily. Surreptitiously, Faye pulled out his tray from under the bowl and mug. “I can’t tell you the details –engineer’s secret and all. But in the nutshell, I dug around and found Angel Aaltonen’s blueprints and journals.”

The result was instantaneously horrendous and glorious. Hanji spat water and spittle like a burst of hail, sprayed everywhere from their mouth to the four of them. Lightning-quick, Faye already had his tray brandished like a shield in front of him, sparing him from most of the burn while leaving Isabel to the line of fire, screeching and wriggling wildly in an attempt to get away, knocking her mug spilling on the table. Farlan was as much a major victim as she, he sputtered out water that caught in his mouth and got inhaled, furiously wiping his wet face with his sleeve jacket, cussing to the high heavens. Levi, the lucky bastard, managed to get away unscathed thanks to his inhuman reflexes, already out of his seat before one drop even broke out of Hanji’s lips, he’s scowling with disgust. Like Hanji was a dogshit under his soles that wouldn’t come off even after scrapping it furiously on the ground.

“Fucking _revolting,_ ” he spat. Which went ignored. Flagon masked his laugh into a cough to his fist, Sairam’s shoulders shaking and lips bitten to suppress his mirth at their misfortune.

“ANGEL AALTONEN?!” Hanji screeched, before resuming hacking and coughing, garnering the attention of half the other occupants of the hall. “Th-the legendary King of Inventors?! The weapon-smith who invented the 3DMG?! You’re playing with me!”

“I’m not, I swear,” Faye retracted the tray down, now the threat had passed. “Angel Aaltonen lived for years in the Underground, a self-imposed exile, from what I heard. I spent months looking for his old hideout in the deeper parts of Underground, in the caves and deserted places. His notes and blueprints gave me insight into the blackbox’s inner machinery, I use it as my base to reconstruct and upgrade the blackbox. It’s not that impressive,” Faye rubbed the back of his head, eyes looking to the side, “I just tweaked it a bit to make the reaction time smoother, and add a few touches to prevent jamming –that happened more often than I’m comfortable with, but now we don’t have to worry about that.”

He began raising one finger for each point he explained, “I overhauled the old core design, separating the wire grids from the fan chamber so we don’t have to crack open the whole thing just to repair one part. The old exhaust tubes for the gas are too narrow and often imploded if we overexerted the fan or overload the gas use, so I changed it to wide horizontal ventilation that also allows a stronger burst of air to give an extra boost when we’re swinging or flying mid-air. The harnesses are more complicated, the materials are a rubber-like fabric I made, really sturdy, more so than leather! And the buckles too, are the result of me fucking around –it’s just to make it easier to get in and out off, Maria knows it’s a pain in the ass,” Faye waved it off, rubbing the back of his head again. “It’s nothing, really, it’s all just for convenience sake! Aaltonen’s notes practically helped me cheats through the whole process, not even using the design improved by Master Craftsmen Xenophon and Inocencio. I mostly use logic, some luck, and–”

Twin fists punched the table so hard, the wood cracks, splinters jumping off the air along with their cutleries and tableware. So loud, it’s deafening, silencing the trailing off chatter in the room. Faye froze dead under the wide, crazed, hungry stares behind the glasses.

Hanji slowly, painstakingly rumbled, “You. Are. A. Fucking. Clueless. Genius! Holy SHIT!” they repeatedly slapped the table with open palms, “Necessity is the mother of invention! Do you have any idea– Goddess! It’s not _that_ impressive, he said, fucking ridiculous! Aaltonen’s blueprints might’ve helped you, but _you_ are the one who improved it! You redesigned the whole gear completely, and you invented a whole new material, for fuck’s sake! That’s not _nothing!"_

"I wouldn't say I'm a genius," Faye scratched the shell of his ear, looking away uncomfortably. "I replicate then tweak stuff 'till it works the way I want it to, it's not... original ideas I came up with myself."

Unheeding of his words, Hanji had resorted to pulling their hair out, making muffled pained sounds from their bitten tight lips in an attempt to not screech like a mad hyena. If it’s even possible, they looked even more deranged than they already have, Farlan thought.

“AND THE GAS CYLINDER!” Faye flinched away from the finger suddenly thrust directly in front of his nose, to which Levi slapped away like it’s becoming a reflex. Farlan made himself comfortable scooting back on his bench so Levi got enough room to reach across whenever he wants without cuffing Farlan’s head in the process.

“I tested it with a machine, see how much capacity it held, but the machine got all wonky! So I tried doing the old method, how long it takes for the gas to run out, and. It. Still. Didn’t. Run. Out! To. This. Day!” Each word emphasized with a slap upon the table, Hanji didn’t break eye contact throughout. “Gas canister typically able to store gas that lasted for five hours top, if the user didn’t overexert the gear, but this–” Hanji ducked under the table, hauling the discarded gas canister that had rolled off, back up and let it fall to the table with loud metallic clatter, “–baby still last to this morning! It’s more compact, smaller to the original! It's supposed to have a smaller capacity than the original! You strapped them to your thighs from the reports I read! What did you do to it?!”

“Err. Eng…” Faye said, slowly, a bit freaked out probably. Finally. Someone who could crack the guy’s steel composure. “Uh. Well, do you know how a thermos works?”

Hanji pulled themselves off the table, sitting back down on the bench like a sane person. Their fingers steepled in front of their mouth, voice lowering an octave with a certain terrifying edge of austere, “What is this _thermos_ you speak of?”

It's rare for Faye to look helpless or hapless, more so both at the same time, he looked like some poor kid who lost his mother in the market, five seconds away from bursting into tears. Farlan squashed all the sympathy that rose up to meet that look, feeling smug instead. Let this served as his punishment for all the shits he pulled yesterday. Looking back and forth from anticipating Hanji to unsympathizing Farlan, Faye briefly glanced at Levi before finally returning Hanji’s stare.

“It’s… Uh. Basically a container, that can steadily maintain the temperature of its contents. Like, if you put something hot in it, it would remain hot. Vice-versa with cold– Wait,” He reached out and rolled the canister to him, “It’s best to show you directly, I guess.”

He turned the cylinder bottoms up, grasping the bottom. Then, slowly, twisted it like opening a bottle cap. A click and a hiss, cold fog flowing out in rivulets from the opened space. Faye pulled the separated bottom of the canister, revealing its innards. It’s a long tube of semi-translucent material, glossy. At the tail end, something akin to diamond compacted into a dense cylinder–

The bespectacled maniac gasps, like they just saw the goddesses themselves descending down from heavens. Flagon and Sairam craned their necks to see the peculiar object, even Levi leaning close to get a clear look –the three of them didn’t know the know-how of the improved gear, but they trusted Faye to not question it, and to avoid vertigo-inducing technical explanations.

Hanji whispered tight, almost inaudible, “H-how? How did you get your hands on Iceburst Stone? In its raw, solid form too…”

Hanji was half-way crawling up the table, waggling fingers reaching for the canister, but Faye was faster. He swiftly pushed it back inside the canister, clicked audibly, and with a twist, a sharp snap, it’s locked firm. He’s completely unimpressed at Hanji’s whining and pouting, too used at dealing with Isabel pulling the same technique, “Nope. Trade secrets. Until the Commander agreed to my terms, no one is allowed to tinker with my stuff. You’re already violating my private properties by running tests on them without my consent and knowledge.”

Hanji huffed, a petulant child being denied a shiny new toy, “Hmph. Fiiinee. Sorry for that, by the way, can’t help myself. Erwin better work his magic with you and Commander, or I swear to Rose, I will– Oh, and the blade thigh holsters idea is ingenious but so obvious! Why didn’t anyone think of that! It saves a lot of space and reduces weight! Ah, that’s right, how long the gas lasts, typically? The old one only runs for five hours at best.”

“About two days if used nonstop,” Hanji’s jaw dropped to the table, Faye rubbed his chin in thought, “five days tops, if used sparingly. It’s actually still a prototype, I’m not satisfied with it, there’s a lot to be improved on. Not looking forward to it, honestly, I gotta disassemble the whole thing and try to work on new designs. Ugh. Maria’s sagging tits, it gives me headaches just thinking about it.”

“ _Maria?_ ” Hanji breathed out, eyes wide unblinking. Suddenly, those eyes seemed deadly. “You’re from Wall Maria’s region? But, Erwin and Mike found you in Underground Mitras.”

Farlan broke out of his trance, bread half-chewed in his mouth. He tuned them out a while ago when Faye’s started rambling about thermos, only looking up to see the exhibition of canister’s innards. People of the Walls who believed in divine faith shared one religion, the worship of the three goddesses personified as the Walls protecting the last of mankind. But, even though all three were revered equally, each region favored their own Wall’s goddess. For example, people of Wall Maria mainly prayed to Her, even the nonbelievers would invoke the goddess’ name in everyday speech. That’s why there’s a saying ‘you’ll know where someone came from when they cuss’.

Farlan had wondered about it for a while; Faye invoked Maria, unlike other residents of Underground who invoked Sina because they live within Her. He never bothered to adjust, which means it was a deeply-ingrained habit, something a person born and bred in a certain region would do and hard to unlearn. How did Faye end up all the way in Sina’s underground city if he’s born in Maria?

Faye’s open expression shuttered, closing tidily into his typical thin smile. “It’s a long story, not worth elaborating. Anyway–”

“Your accent is southern, but not that thick or traditional to be from the small villages… It got certain… Vernacular,” Hanji ignored Faye’s attempt to sway them back to the subject of 3DMG, mumbling away in their own world. Farlan suspected they’re the type to bounce from topics to topics, anything that caught their attention, diverging from the more important subject to delve into the side one. “…But, no– only people from big districts use more structured vocabulary, the dialect closer to Standard cause they’re located in the hub between regions…. Ah!” Hanji snapped their finger, “Shinganshina! Right?”

The expression Faye made was an abnormal one. Unnerving from how new it was. Something close to a heart-squeezing panic. His jaw clenched, teeth making an audible click as they clamped together so tight it’s like they’re fused. Eyes shaking. Nails scraping the wood’s surface. Faye closed his eyes and when they opened again, they’re dead. All manner of open facial expression wiped clean, body drained of tension but guarded. Farlan turned to look for supporting evidence from Levi, who’s clutching his mug’s handle in a white-knuckled grip, he didn’t look at Faye, or more accurately, forcing himself not to. He’s glaring balefully at the water in the bottom of his mug. So, Levi didn’t know? Did he suspect something along the same vein? Or, did Faye told him in confidence and he’s angry Hanji aired out Faye’s privacy like that?

“Yes. I’m from Shinganshina,” Faye confirmed calmly. Eerily calm. A brewing stormfront at a distance.

Hanji tilted their head, blinking owlishly at Faye’s reaction, “Spot on, huh? Hey, does that mean you’ve seen titans before? There’s no way you didn’t at least once sneaked in and climbed the Wall to see one. You’re a doctor, right? Are you interested in studying their biology?” They grinned, lips pulled taut and stretched unnervingly wide, the light reflected on their glasses hides their eyes. “What do you think of them, hm? A flesh that can regenerate at a rapid pace, body that constantly heals without consuming sustenance, living by nothing but sunlight… yet completely brain dead, only run by instinct to _devour._ All the medical possibilities, the preposterous breach of nature’s law!”

It’s a distraction tactic, given in manner almost apologetic. Faye gratefully accepted it, though he didn’t retain his previous openness, adopting back his deceptive tranquil composure. “Of course, they’re fascinating. Despite their size, they’re _suspiciously_ light, don’t they? Like they weigh ten times less than they look, might as well has been a feather. Contrary to the appearance of density and great mass, not to mention their muscle strength, they’re not heavy at all. It doesn’t make sense.”

“That’s what I thought too!” Hanji banged their fists enthusiastically, again, spilling sustenance everywhere. Ignoring Isabel, Sairam, and Flagon’s united dismayed protests. “ _Why_ exactly _,_ I still haven’t found out! There are no known means to preserve a titan’s flesh, they always evaporate into steam whenever we severed a limb, and when they died, they left nothing behind! And they also lacked pain-sensitivity! I tried maiming them, taking my time before the killing, but most of them didn’t even react to the pain! And those that did, the reactions weren’t extreme! Do you think their sensory system is dulled? Or completely lacking it?!”

Faye blatantly eyeballed Flagon, smirking, while Flagon seethed flushing with embarrassment. “I theorized their synapses and receptors don’t work differently from ours, it’s just that the brain didn’t ‘let’ itself fully process the feeling but only register the source of intrusion, like an alarm. Their brain, after all, is not exactly functioning as it should –they cannot feel, they cannot show emotion. Like you've said, they’re ruled by instincts. They cannot form conscious thoughts like us, they cannot speak, cannot write, or perform complicated tasks. More of an animal, but sustained by sunlight like a plant. Sure, there are abnormal titans, whose behaviors are unpredictable, but in the end, they’re still mindless. We’ll be doomed should there exist an intelligent titan.”

Flagon and Sairam jerked to a halt whatever they’re doing, eyes widening in trepidation but didn’t search to meet the rest of theirs. They looked tense. Hanji looked delighted. Definitely _not_ a good sign.

“Oooh… You’re all gonna _love_ this, my bright-eyed, naïve newbies,” they crooned low, shoulders hunching, ducking like they’re about to reveal a secret that would shatter the ground they stand upon. “We have this, _beautiful_ , fifteen-meter titan that learned our flare signal and the meaning of its colors, it stands waiting for us in the open whenever the gates are raised, The kicker? It can understand human language, _and_ it doesn’t eat human.”

“You’re delusional,” the words spilled out of Farlan’s mouth without his conscious consent, but it’s too late to retract it. “A titan that doesn’t eat human? I can act like I bought the ‘understand language’ bull, but this is just–” he shook his head, his tongue numb just as his mind can’t articulate the overwhelming incredulity he felt. “You’re plain insane.”

“As much as I would like to agree with you, Church, they’re not,” They whipped their heads to Flagon, surprised the Captain didn’t tune out Hanji spiel from the start, or even would speak out for them. “At least, not in this case. That titan indeed exists. I saw it with my own eyes, most of everyone here,” he spread his arms wide, gesturing to the very room, “has seen it. Commander Shadis himself, was the first human ever to engage with the titan. It saved his and half of his remaining squad’s lives. It’s the reason why we still have half of our veterans from the previous Commander alive today.”

Farlan tried as he might, but he couldn’t discern any trace of an attempt to hide a laugh, thinking the Captain was messing with them ‘cause they’re newbies. Flagon wass dead serious. “People in the border districts, who heard about it the most, started making a legend out of it. Sometimes adapting it into local folklore, making up stories, about the Sentinel of Humanity.”

Hanji nodded vigorously, “Commander Shadis was the one who named it _Crystal Titan._ Because the titan can create virtually _anything_ from crystal, it generates _crystals_ from its body! It- it- it completely _deviates_ from all known nature of titans! Can’t even call it an aberrant, it’s been consistently docile! It never attacks any humans, never eats us, never chase with an intention to harm. Other titans are afraid of it, they’re actively avoiding it! It helps us a great deal whenever Crystal decided to escort us, titans avoid us completely! The survival rate climbs off the charts, we barely ever lost anybody when its around!”

“Have you seen that titan ‘fore, Hanji?” Isabel, surprisingly, asked. She looks intrigued, for the first time since the conversation began. “What does it look like?”

“Uh– well, I… _never_ saw it before. That titan hasn’t been seen in years. A _decade_ , even,” Hanji tittered awkwardly, scratching their head, sheepish. “But! According to the reports from the veterans who did, the titan was fifteen-meters tall, its body was proportionally perfect unlike typical titans –muscled too! Its body covered with white skin, from head to toe. No hair, no distinctive characteristics. Only a milky-white skin, and serrated parts exposing the red muscles of the neck, eyes, and mouth. Can you _imagine_? A titan, whose mouth is naturally barred by its own skin, preventing it to eat _anything!_ Let alone human! It was… born? perhaps created! with means to prevent it from degrading to its titan’s nature,” Hanji sighed dreamily, “Doesn’t it sounds gorgeous? I heard tales about it since I was younger from people in my town, and I live all the way in Rose! Ugh, if only I joined the Corps earlier, I would’ve got to see it!”

“So, it doesn’t show up anymore? Typical,” Farlan rolled his eyes. Now completely sure it was all a made-up story the veterans said to keep the juniors’ faith to fight for this crazy organization. Sarcastically, he says, “What? It got eaten by other titans? Or did it starve to death from swearing abstinence and fasting? Shoulda named it _Monk Titan._ ”

Levi snorted, “ _Sentinel_ of Humanity. A titan? Protecting humans? And here I thought you’re all a bunch of crooks, but it’s worse than I thought,” he scowled, pushing himself out of his seat. “What a waste of time. All this. You all are really hangin’ by a thread, makin’ up bullshit to cram it up into some poor bastards’ heads who got themselves tricked into joining this circus,” the look he gave the three soldiers could've chilled boiling water. The disgust and contempt in his eyes are near tangible, from the sheer prominence of it.

“If you wanna throw away their lives, just said it plainly what they’re offering up their hearts for. Lying to them, is the greatest betrayal to their faith. Letting them die in delusion dirties the honor of their sacrifice.”

A hand grabbed hold of his wrist before he got to leave. Levi whipped his head back, about to cuss the perpetrator. His words died at the tip of his tongue, confronting none other than Faye. Who stood tall following Levi. The first time of the day he returned Levi’s stare.

Faye didn’t say anything, he didn’t let go of Levi’s hand. He turned to regard Sairam. “How long have you been in the Corps?”

Sairam fumbled at the sudden question. “H-huh? I- uh, maybe, uh, about two years? Nearly three years. I joined two years ago.”

“You’ve been on expeditions before,” not a question, a truth, “you’ve met a titan face to face. And yet, you’re still here. Despite the comrades you lost, you’re still here. You could’ve proposed for reassignment, or transfer to Garrison, as it was your rights. Why didn’t you leave after facing the terror outside the Walls? Is it because of that story? The Crystal Titan?”

Sairam coughed, looking away from Faye’s searing gaze. “I, I haven’t personally seen the titan, but everyone who lives in border districts would know the legend. And everyone in Survey Corps would be told of it, by the veterans,” he raised his head to look at them, one by one, Isabel, Farlan, even Levi. “You’re skeptical. I understand that, I am in the same shoes as you. But, legend often rings with truth. And I may not ever see it with my own eyes, but,” he firmed his lips and brows, eyes unbreakable.

“People revered to it, they don’t quite believe it, but the idea of it gave them a semblance of faith. Hope. We, the Scouts, also regain our courage whenever we thought we might see that titan again. Whether that’s true or not, it doesn’t matter. What I know is true, is this: I chose to believe in the hope that titan gave the Scouts, and humanity as a whole. And I stayed, not because I was hoping I could return alive if the story turns out true, but I stayed, because I chose to believe in my comrades!” his voice rang throughout the room, that suddenly became silent as a morgue.

“I believe in their faith to restore our world, in their fight to give back the rightful freedom this world owed to humanity. In the face of the deaths and the loss and the tragedy, I chose to stay, to fight with the Survey Corps. Not only to honor the sacrifice of the fallen, not only to keep their memories alive, but also, for myself! Because I chose to believe what I think is right! I believe fighting for our freedom is right! I believe in the future I can live free without fear! And it’ll be because I fight for it! I chose! To! Believe! In! Myself!”

The room stilled and the ticking time crystalized, every motion hushed. Only Sairam’s labored breath, coughing dryly, hunching over himself in exertion. A mug of water dragged to the front of him, Isabel turns her cheek when Sairam looked up, from her, to Faye.

Farlan had never seen Faye smiled that genuinely. He looked raw with kindness. Radiant with joy. Human.

“Well said,” Faye raised his own mug, tipping it towards Sairam. The other hand still holding Levi’s wrist, hung limply while Levi himself left stunned where he stood. At the proclamation, and at the way Faye smiled regarding Sairam with a new light. A newborn respect in his brilliantly shimmering eyes. “For the future of humanity. Come what may, we chose to believe in this fundamental truth: we are all born free. And for freedom, we shall fight. If we do not fight, we lose. If we lose, we’ll die. Win to live, live to be free. **_Fight_**.”

He didn’t once lift his voice a notch higher, but his words echo into the beating hearts of all that lives. Farlan’s breath caught somewhere in his lungs, logged right next to his pounding heart, there’s a string that pulled it and makes him feel _entwined_ all of a sudden. To what, he’s not sure. Until… The entire hall rung out with mugs and cutleries slamming upon the tables, fists pounding, almost rhythmically. Like a war drum banging. Like stomps of a marching army. Like the steady beating of hearts, singing as one.

Soldiers one by one yells, clear as a tolling bell:

“Hear, hear!”

“For the Survey Corps!”

“For humanity!”

“For freedom!”

The room exploded into hollers, into cheers, into a deafening call. A war cry. A cry of joy and hope. Terrifying in its magnitude, powerful in its unity.

Swept up by the euphoria, Isabel swiped the mug from Faye, jumped up onto the table, hollering with mug raised high. Sairam joining her, screaming ‘till their throats hoarse. Flagon laughed and it was as if the ages he'd lost returned to him. Farlan couldn’t help it, he screamed and laughed along.

Hanji was screeching at the top of their lungs, pouncing at Faye, grasping his now free hand with both theirs from their position kneeling on top of the table.

“I can’t take it anymore! Pretty, smart, cool, and _you love titans!_ You’re perfect!” Hanji jerked Faye, who looked alarmed and disturbed, closer. “Please, MARRY ME!”

They’ve been in the Survey Corps for only a day, and Levi nearly got court-martialed for murdering a superior officer.

Again.

.

“That was amazing! I had my doubts before, but Section Commander Smith’s judgment proves true once again,” a soldier with a charming smile said, offering Farlan a waterskin for his parched throat. “You guys are really something else. Not all of our veterans can pull off the maneuvers you did! How did you learn to use 3DMG?”

Farlan gulped down greedily under the shade of a tree, taking lounge on stacked logs near the supply crates and gas refills after he’s done with his maneuver practice. He gasped in relief, the water helps cooled his boiling insides.

“Thanks. For, both,” his breath labored and molten hot, each intake was a strain on his ribs and throat. The wheezing rang up into his skull and shook it up good for brief, torturous seconds, his eyes had to clench shut to extract relief. Took a few gasps to regain enough for speech, “The compliment, and the water. Learned mostly through trial by fire, really. Fwah. Damn.”

Face scrunching, Farlan fanned his shirt, sweating like a pig, and probably smelled like one too. The leather of his gear harnesses stuck hot, stiffer too, than he used to. Harnesses made by Faye were more flexible, and definitely _not_ burning under the sun as leather did. “I don’t know how you people stand the heat while training ‘till you drop. Sina, my skin hates me.”

It’s unbelievably hot, the sun scorched merciless on his skin –leaving patches of glistening red that stung when touched. Like a scalding from boiling water. The soldier who passed him waterskin called it sunburn. It’s not uncommon to catch them, but apparently, people like Farlan and Levi were particularly prone to it. Especially since they’ve been hiding from the sun for nearly their entire life so far.

The soldier chuckled. “You’ll get used to it. Here,” he pulled a small tin cylinder from his pocket, “this is aloe vera salve Section Commander Hanji made. I used to get sunburn a lot, especially in summer. Put it on your red skin.”

“Thanks. Um, sorry, what was your name again?”

“Oh right. We haven’t introduced properly since, uh, the whole… breakfast debacle. I’m Moblit,” the soldier made himself comfortable, taking a seat beside Farlan. He’s taller than Farlan, broader too, but his countenance was warm. Dark blond hair, olive skin, honey eyes and soft smiles. He looked approachable, like you could just sit next to him in a tavern and chat like an old bud. “Moblit Berner. Executive Officer of the Fourth Squad. But no need to be formal around me, just call me Moblit.”

“Farlan Church,” he shook the hand offered, “I’m really sorry about Levi, he’s just, uh. Really protective of us. Especially Faye, cause he doesn’t like being touched by strangers. I swear, he didn’t mean it, it won’t happen again.”

It was chaos. And honestly, for a brief, terrifying moment, Farlan thought they’re gonna get court-martialed for real. It was mostly a blur. He recalled bits and pieces, of Levi brandishing his nail clipper and dropkicking the Section Commander off the table, Isabel and Sairam got knocked down along to the floor, into a dogpile with Hanji on top. The rest was a deranged amalgamation of cat-and-mouse chase and food fight through the crowded room, along with frantic attempts of quelling the situation.

The crowd had gone even wilder but not one bit useful, cheering and jeering them on. A lot of bowls and trays flying thank goddesses they’re all made of wood, and even more of goopy grey projectile splattering numerous unfortunate bystanders. A whole lot of Flagon screaming for order and generally being a useless nuisance, while Faye and Farlan combined forces to intercept Levi to no avail. Then, Moblit arrived heroically in an apron and kitchen cap, a ladle in one hand –didn’t remember exactly what he did, but Levi was subdued briefly, enough for Hanji to skedaddle away, with Faye hauling them out of the hall in what he had called ‘fireman carry’.

Faye and Hanji were stupid lucky, because right then after, the whole mess hall was verbally beaten back and forth ‘till they see the goddesses by none other than Commander Shadis. For the remainder of the day so far, Faye was monopolized by the Fourth Squad (“Hanji Squad,” Moblit had told him), sitting with them in the briefing and joining them in other training. Flagon couldn’t do shit about it and just gave up; as long as Faye is being watched over by trusted soldiers (however unstable they are seemingly), he’s not breaching any probation rules.

Moblit waved it off with an apologetic, awkward smile, “I’m sure Hanji wasn’t completely innocent either, they can drive a man up a wall then straight into madness. I’m sorry too, since I’m responsible for that bruise your friend got. Levi, right?” He juts his chin towards the dense crop of trees across them, where they do maneuver training.

Flagon stood at the edge, arms folded in what he assumed to be a chagrined stance. Farlan caught a glimpse of familiar silhouette and ink-black hair flitting through the foliage, weaving expertly from tree to tree, metal glinting and slicing sounds faintly heard.

“I saw him nearly cut down the titan dummy in half, he’s really strong. The way he handles the swords is odd, but after seeing it in action, it made sense. The backhand grip allows for stronger, deeper slice and efficient spinning maneuver, the gear is like a part of him too. He’s really skilled, even though none of you had formal training,” Moblit adopted a glazed, thoughtful gaze. "Everything from the way we research about titans to the way we take them down is dependent upon individual methods. The skills you guys brought to the table are really valuable."

Farlan was reminded that despite how unassuming he seemed, Moblit still a part of the research squad. “Yeah. Levi’s the strongest of us, of all Underground, really. He kept most of the criminals there in line, folks knew better than messing with us because we’re Levi’s. Well, mostly. Reckless dumbasses still exist.”

“I heard about it. Levi was a notorious down there, they call him Levi the Invincible, right? How did you end up working with him?”

“Oh, it’s a long ass story.”

But Farlan indulged him. A redacted, abridged version of the story. Mostly because it gave him the excuse to build friendly rapport, maybe he'll get more info in exchange, and _maybe_ it also helped get his mind off stressful things, like the fact that his friends were running wild leaving him alone on fretting over the next step for his scheme and why there’s no alcohol or cigars within arm’s reach when you need them. He told Moblit about his pathetic attempt of recruiting Levi into his gang, the turning tables, then the building loyalty. Moblit listened earnestly, fascinated. Bless the man.

“-I didn’t stand a chance! In the blink of an eye, every last one of my friends turned on me. Since then, I’ve always been with him,” Farlan shook his head, exasperated but fond. “Though, it might be problematic to make him any kind of leader. Sure, he’s cool-headed and initiative, but he’s got the charisma of a wet napkin. He’s more instinct-driven too, even though he’s as clever as a Devil. That’s what he got me for; to manage negotiations, coming up with structured strategies, managing the books too. I feel like some kind of glorified secretary. But,” Farlan shrugged helplessly, he couldn’t articulate the words he wanted to express. It’s too… personal. Something he didn't needs to air to a stranger he wouldn’t see again after their operation was done.

“I get it,” Moblit nodded, in a way someone with similar experiences could relate, “Hanji is brilliant, practically genius. They come up with the most ingenious idea but without the structured details on how to realize it, they like to just dive in and do as they went. I’m helping them with the details. The resources, the methodical records, the sanity, the safety too –cause we’re dealing with dangerous stuff, that involves a lot of bloodthirsty titans,” he shuddered. “But honestly, I wouldn’t trade places even if I could. Hanji may be… eccentric, and they can get tiring to deal with, but… they grew on me. Can’t imagine not being beside them, you know?”

Farlan gets it. He really does. He couldn’t imagine not watching Levi’s back, arguing back and forth, listening and supporting and giving advice. They’re more than leader and subordinate, or boss and confidant, they’re friends. Practically brothers.

Moblit caught sight of something far above that jerked him out of his seat, “Oops. We’d better not chat here, Section Commander Smith’s watching.”

Farlan rose along, gaze following Moblit’s to the furthest left window at the third story of a nearby building, bordered from the training field with tall wooden fences. A tall silhouette poked behind a curtain, staring at the training field below. He guessed it was the officer’s quarters. “From that building?”

“That’s the officer’s dorm, the first and second story houses meeting rooms and officer’s studies. If you perform well, you might rise up the ranks quick and get private rooms too,” Moblit weaved away, to the congregating mass of soldiers cheering at a commotion in the center. “Let’s get on with your training, we haven’t covered hand-to-hand, have we?”

A few steps behind already, Farlan only took his eyes off the window after he’s sure he branded the location in mind. “Yeah. We haven’t,” he frowned warily at the masses ahead, circling the dry open field used for hand-to-hand combat practice. “What’s going on over there?”

The crowd suddenly whooped and cheered, clapping at a loud bump of something heavy hitting the ground. A delighted, shrill holler rung out from inside the circle, familiar voice belonging to a certain bespectacled mad scientist. That, kicked Moblit into gear, quickly sprinting to the source of the commotion. Farlan just a step behind him.

Moblit expertly paved a way for them, the masses parting as he pushed them away in frantic, almost manic worry. A complete opposite from his initial calm and easy-going demeanor. “Hanji! What did you do?!”

“-and that’s the fifteenth consecutive win, folks!” the scientist yelled, waving a handkerchief wildly from on top of stacked logs, jumping down to the center, where Faye stood tall overshadowing a soldier crumpled on the ground. “Faye wins! Again!”

The blond soldier groaned as he uncurled, he’s sturdy-muscled but on a lanky side, blond hair tied into a manbun, clutching his side with a wince. Faye crouched to his level, eyes scanning for injuries whilst murmuring softly to him, the soldier shook his head with an attempt of a smile coming out more like a grimace.

“I’m good. I’m fine. I can take a bit of beating. Wow. You really…” the soldier hissed, “..strong. Didn’t see that throw coming.”

“Can you stand?” Faye sounded genuinely concerned, his supporting touch on the soldier’s back had a certain gentility that hints of fear. Like the soldier is made of spun glass. “I'm sorry, should’ve just disarmed you, not–”

The blond laughed, heartily and easy, “Who knew a tough-looking guy like you is such a worrywart? Seriously, I’m fine! We, soldiers, are made of stronger stuff!” The guy flexed his bicep, “There’s nothing to forgive. That was a good, fair match. Nobody got hurt badly, and we both had fun, right?”

Jerkily, like a chastised child, Faye nodded. And the soldier accepts Faye’s hand to haul to him back on his feet. The soldier clasps Faye’s hand firm, patting his shoulder in respect, murmuring something comforting as he passed Faye who stands rigid like he’s the one defeated. Hanji clapped the blond soldier’s shoulder as he half-limped to a bench.

“Eld lasted for one minute thirteen seconds! Well done! And Faye remained uncontested!” Hanji pulled up Faye’s wrist, holding it high in the air for the crowd to cheer on. “Alright! C’mon soldiers, anyone dare to challenge our formidable champion here? Winner gets meat for tomorrow’s dinner!”

“Hanji! You can’t raid the storage again! We’re on a tight budget!”

Moblit had strode up to their face, blabbering anxious scolding, which Hanji took with easy humor. The crowd rambled amongst one another, elbowing each other, goading to get one person into the ring. Farlan fixated on Faye, who didn’t look out of breath, adopting a politely disinterested expression while patting dust off his knees. Well, at least he doesn’t look irked or awkward, probably doing it to indulge over-excited Hanji. After dithering for a couple of seconds longer, Farlan ambled over to Faye, pace careful not to draw attention.

“Hanji roped you into this?” _and you just went along?_ was left unsaid, but clear it’s insinuated.

Faye rolled his shoulders, “Got nothing else to do, I finished my other practices already.”

“Thought you got trouble with the horses?”

“They decided to leave it for later when the last horse shits on the spot before even getting near. All the horses ended up running away, they’re still trying to herd them back to the stables.”

Farlan shook his head, exasperated, “What is with you with animals, really? They’re all scared shitless of you.”

“Only prey animals. Predators and birds are fine with me,” Faye scowled, rubbing one arm, “Why can’t dogs leave me alone too?” Another oddity. For someone so unbothered and composed, Faye hated dogs with a burning fervor, equal to his fear of them. He jumped at the sound of dogs barking, ran off at seeing one. Absolutely abhored them.

His eyes trailed down Faye’s sweat-drenched front, frowning in niggling worry when he noticed Faye’s breathing a bit short –a subtle difference, if one knew what to look for. Farlan lowered his voice, and Faye had the tact to lean close, “How long you’ve been wearing the binders? You should really call all this off and rest somewhere private, not good for your ribs, especially with all this heat.”

“It’ll be fine, I’ll remove my binders after this. You, on the other hand,” Farlan hissed when Faye poked the edges of a patch of his glistening, reddened skin. He smirked, smugly turning up his nose. “Should’ve sunbathed like I told you, none of you idiots ever listens to me. Suffer.”

“Asshole,” Farlan elbowed his side. The bastard didn’t even budge. Unlike him and Levi, Faye was already sunkissed, he’s right where he belonged; blooming under the glory of the sun.

“Aloe vera?” Faye's eyes squinted at his rubbing fingers, wet from the salve on Farlan’s skin.

He hummed, showing the tin cylinder from his pocket. “Yeah, from Moblit -that guy chewing out Hanji. The salve helps a lot.”

“It should be. And you should stay out of the sun, cool off the skin with a wet towel or something,” Faye looked around, jaw tightening from suppressed worry, throat bobbing. Attempting to sound all nonchalant, “Reckon you know where Levi went? If you find him, give him some of it.”

“Find him yourself, use some bullshit to bail outta this dumb spar –you’re good at that, making up excuses,” he hissed low, glaring under his fringes at the chattering crowd circling them. “I don’t like this. You’re being used like some vicious mutt in a dogfighting ring, like some cheap entertainment. Go find Levi, get outta your binders, and _talk.”_

"If he wants to talk, he should've done it when he had the chance," A stubborn set of his furrowing brows let Farlan know his pride had been stung, he should’ve worded it differently. Faye folded his arms, “He’s too high-strung to talk with right now. Not gonna waste my breath fanning that prideful asshole’s flames.”

Pot _,_ kettle _. Honestly_ , Farlan felt a tell-tale sign of migraine building, _screw these two bullheaded jackasses_. Farlan had half the mind to drag and lock them into one cramped room if he knew they’re not going to either 1) kill each other, or 2) demolish the room to bail.

“If you keep holding this off, it’s gonna get worse, then he’s gonna blow. You know he’ll get impulsive when things don’t get resolved as quick and neat as he wants. Even Isabel’s getting worried.”

“What about Isabel?” again with the redirecting topic, Faye pretended he didn’t see Farlan rolling his eyes, “She holding up alright?”

“Peachy. Running wild with the horses.”

Isabel was also spared somewhat, since Faye religiously dragged her to sunbathe more often, giving her a bit of immunity. The sun granted her mercy by merely splattering freckles across her nose, cheeks, even down her neck. The two youngest seemed like they truly belonged up here, thriving like flowers.

“So?!” Hanji suddenly called out, “Any more volunteers?!”

“Me! Me!” Speaking of, “Me! I wanna go at Faye!” from the grass-carpeted field bordered by fences behind them, Isabel hollered on top of a horse. She leaped off the galloping animal with her gear, shooting straight into the middle of the circle. Rolling off her fall, she hopped back on her feet, puffing up at the clapping and cheering she garnered from the crowd. “C’mon, Faye! It’s been ‘while since we spar!”

“It’s been a while since I kicked your ass, miss eating dirt already?” Faye teases, leaping back from Isabel clumsy punch.

Farlan rolled his eyes, sniffs, “You just want the prize, brat.”

“Obviously! I wanna eat meat!”

“Magnolia! You’re still in the middle of horseback training!” Isabel groaned, slumping at the voice coming from the grass field. A familiar blond woman reared her horse to stop right behind the fence, “No slacking this off! And don’t think you can get away from me this time!”

“Aw, c’mon Banana! It totally counts as training! I haven’t gotten combat practice, right?!”

“It’s Nanaba!”

“Let her try, Nanabanana!” Hanji sauntered over, slapping Isabel’s back hard, “Count it as her practice, the girl’s jittering in her boots to fight!”

He didn’t bother arguing Isabel against the idea, Farlan sighed in defeat, mirrored by Moblit. They looked at each other, an empathetic understanding formed between them. They trail off to the side, taking a seat on pile of logs where Hanji once climbed on top of, as Isabel geared up to the one side of the ‘arena’. Faye took his time, reminding Isabel to stretch, else she pulled something. Hanji pulled out a silver coin to be flipped, explaining the rules to Isabel.

Nanaba threw her hands in the air, dismounting from her horse, leading it to the edge of the field and tied its rein around the fence. She jumped across to claim a seat next to Moblit’s empty left side, “That guy, Faye, is really strong. I saw him beat many of our skilled soldiers without breaking a sweat! Can Magnolia really win against him?”

“No _pe_ ,” Farlan popped the word easily, without missing a beat. Isabel took up a dummy knife, lowering her stance. Hanji commences the match with a shrill whistle. “Don’t get me wrong. Isabel is strong, stronger than men twice her size, even I lost against her on most days. But she’s nowhere near as strong or skilled as Faye or Levi.”

Isabel leaped into action first, throwing a punch redirected by Faye, using her momentum against her to trip her off the ground. Smoothly rolling off the fall, she shook dust off her head and jumped back on her feet, letting out a determined cry pouncing at Faye.

“She’s a pipsqueak, but got crazy strength like nobody’s business. Her technique needs polishing, though. Faye and Levi trained her, but she still needs to get a hold of herself. She’s too brash. Levi tried to teach her self-discipline but,” he shrugged helplessly, “we spoiled her too much.”

“Sounds like she’s the baby of the group, huh?” Moblit chuckled, his shoulders shaking as he does. “So, what’s Faye’s deal? I get that Isabel is sort of a sister to you guys, but Faye doesn’t strike me as someone who would ‘follow’, or even listen to anyone. And, he doesn’t act all friendly with Levi but nice to everyone else. Was he always like that?”

 _Being all friendly and shit? Yeah, he’s usually more of a recluse, getting a genuine smile from him used to be like pulling teeth._ “Ah,” Farlan scratches his nose, awkward. He couldn’t even begin to explain that. “Faye is... he’s not really a part of our gang. He built us the gear and patch up our wounds, but never participate in gigs. He taught me some medical stuff too -first aid, some field surgery. I’m still learning. Faye came in a package with Levi, they’re already together when I met them and been that way for a long time.”

“Together?” Moblit arched his eyebrows, Nanaba joined him with her grinning wide and eager, both leaned close to him –Farlan drew their similarity to brothel workers hearing a juicy gossip. “As in, _together_ together? But, they don’t look close from what I saw.”

A laugh bubbled in his throat, bursting into a guffaw Farlan failingly hid behind a hand. He nearly drooped off the log from how hard he laughed. That’s an even longer story he wouldn’t divulge on.

“Bahahaha! N-no, not together that way,” but a certain someone wished it was. “They’re childhood friends. It’s not always like this, they’re actually really close. But uh, they got into a disagreement recently. Cold shoulders and all.”

Hanji suddenly hollered, “Ooouh! Faye played Lil Red like a fiddle! She’s down! I repeat, she’s down!”

True to their words, Isabel’s yelp accompanied swift by a muffled thud as her knees hit the ground. She’s disarmed, her dummy knife now twirled in Faye’s free hand, the other twisting back Isabel’s. Rendering her immobilized, half-folding to the ground. She slapped the dusted earth with her remaining arm, “I give! I give! Owowow! Faye! Leggooo!”

Faye didn’t waste another second releasing her, patting her head consolingly. “Better luck next time, Bel. You improved,” that got him a tired, but bright grin from Isabel.

Hanji’s whistling cut through the cheering and clapping, “Amazing! Three minutes eight seconds! Lil Red here packed a hell of strength!”

Isabel staggered back on her feet, whooping and waving at the applause she received, even sending a flying kiss. Faye kicked her on the butt, earning a yelp from the redhead. “Go on, git. Sit down, stretch out your legs and rehydrate,” Isabel jut her tongue out at him, but complied nonetheless, dropping in a sloppy heap right beside Farlan.

“Ugh. Unfair! He’s not even tired!” she whined, mouth opened with tongue lolling, out of breath. The flushing skin from exertion highlights her newly dusted freckles. Nanaba tossed her a waterskin, which she guzzled down the contents greedily.

“She got a point,” Moblit said, pointing to Faye who remained standing, sweat drenching his face and front but breath steady while posture straight, relaxed with one arm bent, the hand propped on his hip. “This is his, what? Sixteenth victory? How long he’s been sparring with the other soldiers?”

“Two, nearly three hours,” Moblit nearly choked on his own spit at Nanaba’s claim. She shook her head, “He didn’t even take a break, not once. Hanji just keeps it coming and he delivered, never faltering. A lot of instances he won by outlasting his opponents. I’m not exaggerating when I say this: that guy is a monster, thank Rose I didn’t get tasked to capture him yesterday. Captain Zacharias got nasty bruises last I checked, still limping too.”

“Is- is he… really that strong?” Moblit stuttered, face steadily losing color. “The reports–”

“Not exaggerating. If you read the part claiming he snapped the bar of his metal shackles with bare hands like,” Nanaba mimicked the way Faye separated his joined wrists, her shoulders and arms jerked from the sharp snap motion she made. “Saw it with my own eyes. Scariest shit I’ve seen inside the Walls.”

Face now closer in similarity to chalk, Moblit gulped, glancing cautiously towards Faye. Did he look like that, Farlan wondered, when the realization sunk in that the serenely amicable personality was all just a façade to hide a vicious monster beneath?

“Right. So,” Moblit cleared his throat, “want to open a betting pool?”

“Twenty gold said he’ll stop Hanji or challenge them at the eighteenth round.”

“Twenty-three for him winning the eighteenth and goes up to nineteenth.”

Farlan turned his face heavenward, eyes closed with pious surrender as he let the reality sunk in and marinate: his coworkers were all either insane or dumb, and this organization was really a nuthouse. Underground doesn’t sound too bad to revisit now.

Isabel reached across him, patting Nanaba’s thigh, from her spot half sprawled on the ground and half leaning on the log, “I want in too! Thirty for someone beating Faye at the eighteenth!”

His eyebrows arched in incredulity, Farlan cleaned his ear with a pinky just to make sure he didn’t misheard. Isabel's a devout believer of Faye’s indomitable combat skills, always the first to jump on defense against any doubt or insult upon it. Farlan squinted his eyes in suspicion. What's she planning now?

Nanaba, not knowing any better, nodded. “Very well. Shake on it.”

“Alright, aallrighhhtt! Who’s next?! C’mon peopleee,” Hanji goaded, some of the crowd groaned and booed, “you gonna let a newbie feasts on some juicy meat we’ve been keeping for special occasion?!”

“I don’t like meat,” Faye said suddenly, nonchalantly. “I’m strictly veggies and maybe poultice or fish diet.”

“Oh? Allergies?” tilting their head, Hanji inquired, “Or is it just your lifestyle?”

Faye shrugged, a tad uneasy. Farlan knew it’s something he’s deeply uncomfortable with, even if sometimes he went above to hunt game for them, but never ate the red meat. If he cooked red meat in a stew, he avoided scooping the meat to his portion, but fine with eating fish or eggs. “Just don’t like the taste.”

“Hmm. How about… If Faye wins, he can ask the loser to do anything he wants them to do, and if anyone can win against Faye, they can ask him to do anything they want!”

“Uh. I never agreed to that.”

“Within reason!” Hanji added unhelpfully.

A hand shot high from the crowd, though, it seemed useless since the owner of said hand was tall enough to tower over everyone else. The crowd parted for a blond man, tall and broad, blond bangs parted in the middle of his face scruffy in thin beard and moustache. Farlan recognized him as the soldier who apprehended them yesterday. Sina, he’s taller than Farlan remembered, even Faye was dwarfed by him. The bored look he sported twitched into a semi-intrigued one, then, he–

“What… the hell… is he doing…?” Farlan scrunched his nose, disturbed, as the man leaned down low enough to sniff Faye’s hair. Then, quicker than lightning, leaned even further, close to Faye’s neck. Faye shuddered violently, snapping his entire body away from the man. Like a deer startled he scrambled to put a safe distance between him and the blond, giving the man a wide-eyed look, covering his nape with a white-knuckled clutch.

Farlan prayed to the goddesses the density of the crowd obscures this whole thing, maybe Levi was still busy in the maneuver practice forest. For this guy’s sake, he better.

“That’s just Captain Zacharias. He’s got a sensitive nose, can smell titans from miles away,” Nanaba looked completely straight-faced, he couldn’t tell whether she’s joking or not. “He likes smelling people, determines their character from their scent, and tell whether they’re lying or not. He said I smelled nice, like fruits, and I’m a ‘sweetheart’ who’s a complete softie with tough, hard-to-peel shell, but I’m half convinced he’s flirting.”

“…Is it accurate? The truth-detecting one, I mean.”

Moblit nodded solemnly, “One hundred percent,” Farlan made a mental note to avoid the Captain as much as possible, just in case. Even if it turned out they’re just pulling his leg. Better stay away from the crazies, and his list of them just becoming more crowded the longer he stayed in this place.

“Uh, Sir? Excuse me?” Faye half-demanded, the strain in his voice told Farlan he’s struggling to comprehend of what just happened. “What in the name of three walls did you–”

“You smell like the forest after a rain,” the man cut off, straightening back as if nothing happened, “crisp clean air, woodsy musk, damp soil, flowers. Would’ve been a refreshing scent, if it wasn’t for the undertone of salt and rot. And there’s something else. Rosemary, vinegar, pure alcohol… preservatives and disinfecting chemicals,” Captain Zacharias’ face scrunched, wrinkling his nose. “You smell like an embalmed corpse, freshly buried in the middle of a rain.”

The field gotten so quiet, you can hear a pin drop. Faye didn’t twitch, didn’t blink, perhaps he wasn’t breathing at all, perhaps grasping for any resemblance of comprehensive thoughts. The man still blatantly staring at Faye, nostrils squirming but not invading his personal space anymore. A beat of tension, before Hanji breaks out into uncontrollable guffaws, manically clapping and doubling over, shattering the awkward tension. The crowd followed suit, an explosion of rapturous snickers and laughter lifting the atmosphere.

“Mike! Holy Rose, you just told the guy he smells musty!” They clutched their gut, stumbling as they grasp Faye’s shoulder, still bewildered. Still laughing, they teased, “Course he smells like chemicals! He’s a doctor! You- you didn’t murder anybody recently, did you, Faye?”

“Other than my dignity, no,” Faye sniffed under his arm, frowning, “I swear I bathed this morning. But I’m a sweaty mess now, though.”

Hanji patted his shoulder with easy cheer, “Ah, that’s just Mike. He got a sensitive nose, can smell titans from miles away!” they echoed Nanaba’s sentiment, so Farlan guessed it was an accepted fact amongst the Scouts. “He said I smell like one ‘cause I always try to experiment with them.”

Faye looked mildly intrigued, contrasting with some others who look disturbed. They didn’t know which to be warier by; the odd skill of smelling threat, or the fact that Hanji smells like one from getting too close more often than healthy.

“We have a score to settle,” Mike said, herding them back to the main topic, “if I win, I get to make you do whatever I asked you to do, right?”

“I never agreed to that.”

“Within reason!” Hanji spoke louder, overwhelming Faye’s feeble protest. “That’s right! Mike was the one who defeated you, right? When you and the others got recruited?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Respectively uttered simultaneously, Faye and Mike stared at each other, one nonplussed while the other deadpan. Faye clicked his tongue, “With all due respect, Sir. You defeated me already, so there’s no need to fight me again.”

“Can’t call it a defeat, you were distracted,” Mike sniffed, “and you were fighting Erwin, I sneaked up behind you to save him. So, technically we didn’t fight each other.”

Hanji clapped their hands once, cutting off Faye from protesting. They pulled up a single silver coin, one side a crown and crossed swords before a shield, the seal of Royal Government, and the other depicted a bird of prey frozen in flight with wings outstretched circling itself. “Okay then! Faye, as the latest victor, you get to choose first. Crown or wings?”

Exasperated but nonetheless obliging, Faye huffed, “Crown.”

“Then Mike’s wings. Whoever side’s the coin ends up, gets to be the armed assailant! Dummy knife, of course,” Hanji’s thumb flipped the coin to the air, it landed on the back of their palm quickly slapped with the other, hidden from view.

They retracted the hiding hand, grinning, “Crown! Faye gets the knife!” Hanji tossed the knife to Faye, deftly catching it without even looking. “If Mike gets the knife, he wins. Faye caught Mike in killing position, Faye wins! Whoever yields first loses!”

Each of the combatants took their place, a fair distance from each other. Assessing one another.

Nanaba frowned, throat croaking an uncertain tone, “Even though Faye hold out for this long, he’s probably tired out by now, and Captain Zacharias our strongest. Is it too late to change my be-” 

Whistle shrieked right as Faye sprinted with unbelievable speed, Mike crouched in instant, on reflex throwing a defensive downward punch aiming for the gut. Faye didn’t meet it, he ducked mid-step and rolled under Mike’s arm, snagging one leg's gear harness and pulled it back so Mike falls flat on his chin.

Dust barely settled before Mike grunted and rolled to the side to avoid Faye sitting on him, dodging a kick aiming for his cheekbone. Mike caught the swinging leg, pulling alongside his rising body to stand again, he clutched the leg up to its knee and _twist_.

Faye gritted his teeth, with his entire body he swung down simultaneously pulling back his captured leg to his body, to make Mike loose balance, forcing the taller man to let go of the leg so he could roll off the fall over Faye. 

Quickly back on their feet. The two shuffled to make room, a decisive distance. Faye prowled the border, encouraging Mike to mirror.

“…Nevermind,” Nanaba muttered, squirming uncomfortably on her seat when Faye’s back passed in front of their seats. Her whisper’s a feather-light weight within their bubble, “Didn’t see that one coming.”

Hanji’s breathless voice rumbled in the tension dense air, narrating the fight, “They’re circling like predators sizing up each other, this is an intimidation tactic for dominance! Who will attack first? The tension is chilling to the bone!”

Mike snorted, not stopping his cautious stalk, “Not going to kick me? I’m not familiar with the techniques you use yesterday. Where did you learn them?”

“Someone,” Faye inclined his head, tone flat and succinct, “a long time ago.”

Mike sniffed the air once, one eyebrow arched, “Hm. Touchy subject?”

As an answer, Faye kicked up dust to Mike’s direction, coughing burst from the crowd and somewhere within the cloud Faye breached fearlessly. Farlan couldn’t see clear what’s going on, sounds of sharp slaps of skin hitting skin, a thud of boots hitting– the dummy knife flew into the air.

Faye staggered out of the dust cloud, weaving out of Mike’s swinging arm, he jumped and caught the knife again. His back towards Mike. An opening quickly exploited.

Mike coiled his arms around Faye’s waist, with a heave hauling him off the ground, backward–

Faster than Farlan's brain could register, Faye had coiled his arms around Mike’s chest, his feet hit the ground, suspending the two in a strange, horizontal painful pose. Their whole body trembling, straining to keep them both from falling wrong.

“Oh! What! Is! This!” Hanji shouted, gleeful, through the awing and howling masses, from their perch on the top of the logs, “Mike’s special move had been thwarted! Why, I never, in my whole career, see this kind of turntables! They look like a mating–”

“Hanji! Don’t make it weird!” Moblit screamed.

In the moment of confusion and desperation, Faye huffed, voice hoarse and strained, “ _Fuck_ spine. I don’t need them anyway.”

He turned his entire body, twisting both him and Mike, Faye let go– no, _threw_ Mike mid-twist so he smashed the ground with a painful _thump._ Whilst Faye himself caught his own fall with both palms slapping flat on the earth, ending up in a push-up position.

Mike groaned, rolling to his back, Faye backed away. The tall blond opening one eye, frowning, “I’m down, you’re not gonna ‘kill’ me?”

“No,” Faye tossed and twirled the knife in the air, “I’m giving you a chance.”

“To fight back?”

The knife caught, slipped into the loop of Faye’s belt, “To forfeit.”

A barking laugh resounded from Mike’s chest as he got back up from his knees, swaying to straightened again. “Not a chance!”

Mike dashed, a kick flying towards Faye’s side, to which Faye threw off with one hand. Mike’s hands thrust to grab Faye’s shoulder, only to be met with Faye’s own pair. A resounding clap. Clasping, pushing against each other, eye-to-eye, forehead near touching. Mike grunted, his leg stomping forward but unable to move his body an inch, he’s trying to push Faye down with his height advantage. Faye’s not having it. Eyes stone-cold, jaw set.

A searing yowl tore out of Mike’s throat, Farlan swore he could hear paper-like crinkling from the man’s hands, bent back by the force of Faye’s grip. To the spectators’ astonishment, Mike’s knees quivering precariously, before buckling under an unbelievable weight, like he’s trying to hold up the sky. He kneeled before the standing tall form of his opponent.

Faye’s earth-shaking voice rumbled the arena, calm yet evocative, “Do you yield?”

Mike grunted long and guttural, “Hrgh. N-no– Argh!”

A kick to the straining torso broke his last remaining balance, Mike tumbled to the ground on his back with a breathless gasp. The gasp hiccups when Faye pressed the sole of his boot against Mike’s throat.

“Cease at once,” the command stilled the arena, “or I’ll snap your neck.”

Silence reigned the arena, only ragged breaths and halted ones intrude the air.

Faye blinking down at Mike, head tilted like a curious cat, “Slap the ground if you forfeit.”

Mike quickly slapping the ground like one would beat a drum. Whistle broke Faye’s deathly pin, he stepped away from gasping and coughing Mike. The crowd broke into bluster of howling, whistling, and clapping.

“Wooo! That was the most _intense_ three minutes, twenty-eight seconds! _”_ shouted Hanji, fanning themselves, “Faye, you can step on me anytime too! But not with the violence before the act please.”

“I think that’s enough stepping on people for today,” Faye said, helping Mike up to sit, passing him a waterskin. “You okay, Sir? I think I overdid it.”

Finished gulping down, Mike croaked, “N-no,” he wiped his mouth, “you gave me a chance to forfeit, I thought I could still take you on. 'Suppose I should’ve picked my battles more wisely.”

“Let me take a look at your neck,” Mike obligingly strained his neck for Faye to inspect. “A mild bruising. Take it easy for a while, your hands too, we’ll have to take a quick stop to the infirmary. Actually, just take it easy on everything,” Faye made a crumpling, guilty face, “you _did_ fight us yesterday, and I threw you at some point.”

“Call it even, then,” Mike rolled his shoulder, wincing slightly. “I _did_ throw you back. You win. What do you want me to do?”

“Technically, we’re not even. Now it’s 2-1,” With soundless permission, Faye pulled up Mike’s arm across his shoulders to help him back on his feet. “How about, becoming my sparring partner? You’re pretty strong, it’s nice to keep our skills sharp with someone who uses different techniques. If, you want, that is. Sir.”

A small grin broke out of Mike’s sweat-drenched, ever-flaccid expression, grasping Faye’s shoulder firmly in a friendly manner, “Not a bad deal. I’ll take you up on that. Just call me Mike. Why didn't you use any of those techniques on me?”

Faye shrugged, and didn’t offer further explanation. Farlan deduced the techniques Mike mentioned were Faye’s specialties, the unsuspecting kicks and deadly disarmings, the high fists straight stance. Maybe Mike had been demonstrated with them yesterday, expecting Faye to use them again in a spar. In truth, Faye only used them when he’s fighting for his life. They could do serious damage if used carelessly.

Nanaba thrust out her open hand under Moblit’s nose, the man scowled, pushing it away. “No. The bet was on the eighteenth, nobody’s winning yet.”

“You don’t want in, Farlan?” Nanaba elbowed his side.

He shook his head, full of restless thoughts. “Nah. I pass,” he couldn’t shake the feeling of something amiss, combined with a foreboding, like a calm before the storm. He smoothened them with a teasing smirk, “I’m feeling generous, obviously Faye’s gonna blow everyone out of the water, don’t need you guys to line my pockets even though I want to.”

Moblit sniggered “Cocky aren’t you. But you’ll never know. We got plenty strong, fresh fighters here.”

“I’m betting on Faye getting fed up and challenging Hanji,” Nanaba grinned mischievously, “Hanji’s pretty decent, their techniques are nothing to scoff at. Real wild card.”

Farlan shook his head, smiling like he’s already won a bet he didn’t participate in. “Faye can outlast anyone, and if there’s anyone stronger or more skilled th–” his eyes flew open at the exploding realization in the back of his skull. He frantically looked around, his right side is empty.

Farlan jumped to his feet, nearly toppling over both startled Nanaba and Moblit. “ _Shit_. Where’s Isabel?!”

Once again, Hanji raised Faye’s arm high for the crowd to celebrate, “Seventeenth! Seven-fuckin-teenth winning streaks! Give it up for Faye!” If possible, the cheering only got louder and more obnoxious, not helping Farlan growing trepidation. “Anyone else dares to challenge the indomitable bright-eyed demon?! Raise your hand to volunteer!”

Head hung low stray loose hair infringe to his cheeks, Faye shuddered a sigh, discreetly rubbing his waist. And for a second there, Farlan heard a hint of wheeze from that exhale. “Hanji, I think it’s eno–”

“I volunteer.”

Only a breaching growl of a force of nature such as thunder can swoop your heartbeat to tremble along the hair of your arms to stand, without needing to become as loud as cannon fire, Levi’s voice snapped silence into being. Reigning tension across the area. Despite his height, it’s not difficult to locate him, a patch of soldiers had turned their suddenly tense faces to the very man himself, right amongst them.

His presence demanded all near him to leap back, giving him space, the soldiers already learned of his violent nature from the breakfast fiasco. Farlan supposed Levi would find a way to integrate fear onto these poor mortals eventually, and he did.

From behind Levi, two heads peeked out, one grinning the other sweating profusely. A red blur scuttled off to the side, Isabel sporting a shit-eating grin as she weaved to their seat. Sairam, after a moment of twitching nervousness, skittered after her.

“Get ready to line my pockets, losers,” she snickered, taking a seat beside Nanaba. “I totally had it in the bag.”

“He’s already pissed before you drag him off from Captain, I don’t think this is a good idea,” Sairam whispered, sitting right beside her. “And you owe me for distracting Captain Flagon. Split the money.”

“Faye. You look ready to keel over,” Levi surged forth into the open space, gaze locked onto Faye, darting up and down. “Won’t be hard to take you down and break your record.”

“Levi. And here I thought you slacks off somewhere after getting fed up with Captain Flagon,” Faye acknowledged coolly, straightening back his posture, straining kinks off his neck. “Put your money where your mouth is, then.”

“Getting high off your winning streaks? Guess I should kick back some manners into you,” stopping a few feet away from Faye, Levi regarded him with head tilted, like a hawk watching its prey. “Now you better make good of that promise on the prize. Don’t back outta my request.”

“So sure you’re gonna win already, _Levi_ ,” a teasing smirk broke out of Faye’s face. “So determined to win. _What_ exactly you’re hoping to get out of little ‘ol me?”

Levi didn’t grace him with an answer, his glowering glare is answering enough for both of them. The spectators were left to squirm where they stood and sat, the tension thick and oppressive. Faye’s smile had thinned into a ghost of one while eyes betrayed nothing, cool with the impression of a knife's edge against a neck’s pulse. While Levi was akin to a loaded gun cocked on a skull. Ready to fire.

Farlan turned to Isabel, hissing, “They’re gonna kill each other and it’s your fault.”

“They’re _not,”_ Isabel groaned, eyes rolling, “Levi-bro won’t ever hurt Faye. Too badly. Maybe knock him out cold and carry him away like a caveman.”

“Ain’t you tired already, hermit? You can call it quits now, I won’t hold it over your head, and we can settle this _civilly,”_ Levi offered. He’s probably aware of the strain Faye’s under, from the way his eyes flitting to the other’s chest, torn between worry and irk at Faye’s stubbornness. “Don’t seem like you’re gettin’ any _sleep_ either.”

“I’m not the type to back down,” Faye gritted. Farlan wanted to bury his face out of this mess, Faye’s determined to avoid Levi’s incoming interrogation, even at the cost of physical injury. “Now, are you done blathering nonsense? Shut up and square up.”

Levi had his mouth half-way open to deliver a verbal bashing when suddenly, seemingly out of thin air, Mike Zacharias loomed over him and took quick whiffs of his neck.

Levi spluttered out foul expletives, jumping to the side and swinging a kick in reflex. Mike barely dodged out of range. “What the ever-loving _fuck_?! Wh–” Levi half-roared, taking a good look at the assailant, his eyes squinted dangerously. “ _You.”_

"You smell nice, better than bright-eyes,” unbothered by a potential murder on his person, the tall blond looked contemplative, intrigued. “Like you just came out of the showers. Clean soap, something soft and downy like fresh laundries, wood–” much to everyone’s horror and befuddlement, he actually dared to sniff again, the top of Levi’s hair, narrowly avoiding a swinging punch.

“Fuck off, damn halfwit! The hell you think you doing,” Levi growled, “sniffing up people like some kinda nasty pervert.”

“Hm. Smells like repressed sexual frus–”

A hand surged to clamp Mike’s nostrils shut, the man turned bug-eyed as he’s forcibly pushed a good distance away by the nose. Mike sniffed, suppressing a sneeze, blinking owlishly at–

“I think-” Faye released his grasp on Mike, his face and voice dangerously smooth, he had put himself right beside Levi. Farlan blinked, he didn’t see him moving, and judging from the bewildered faces around him, nobody did either. “-That would be enough scent-analyzing, Sir. My friend here doesn’t appreciate his personal space to be invaded like that. He’s not familiar with your… _quirks_ , yet.”

“ _Quirks,_ feh. That titan-spawn ain’t got half a brain to understand personal boundaries.”

“Be nice, Levi. He’s still our superior officer.”

“Oh, I’ll be nice aight,” the ominous crackling of knuckles said otherwise. “Go sit down, Faye. I wanna take him on first before I hand your ass back to you.”

“You already got in trouble for the breakfast food-fight, one more strike and you’re out, Levi.”

“I can stage it like an accident.”

“And I’m sure you can but there are too many eye-witnesses–”

Instead of taking offense, Mike bloomed a smirk. “So that’s where the woodsy musk and rosemary clinging to him comes from,” Mike stared straight at Faye, then darting to glowering Levi. He smirked like a cat that caught the canary. “You two fucking?”

Multiple mishaps happened at the same instance; Faye made a strangled wheeze like a chicken being squeezed, killing the sentence about to leave his lips –his face matching, with the ashen complexion and hilariously wide-eyed deer-look. While Levi somehow inhaled air into the wrong pipe, reducing him into painful wet coughing, hunching to hide his face behind his cupping palms. Isabel and Hanji lost their shit completely. Nanaba and Moblit glanced gleefully, knowingly, at Farlan burying his face into his hands, not sure if he’s hiding a laugh or bracing for the impending disaster.

“No!” Both Levi and Faye turned to each other, nervous but incredulous, both had spoken at the same time. “We’re not!”

Mike nodded sagely, folding arms, “Of course. Of course. It’s not like two people who aren’t fucking would use the same exact soap. Or shampoo. Yesterday, your clothes also use the same detergent.”

“We live together, it’s more convenient – Levi, put away your nail-clipper –to use the same detergent and soap,” said Faye, who plucked the nail-clipper from Levi’s hand, now had to put himself between a murderously snarling Levi and smug Mike, though he looked tempted to step aside. “It doesn’t mean we’re _fucking_.”

“But you both want to,” Mike pointed out, fearless. What air tall people breathe to make them lost any semblance of fucks to give, Farlan wondered, probably the kind that demolished all filter from brain to mouth.

“ _No_ ,” Faye rebuffed firmly, his frown deepening. Eyes gleaming with unspoken things, “You should really sit down, Sir. You hit your head hard, probably a bit concussed. I also nearly broke your wrists and dislocate your shoulders, would be a _shame_ if your condition worsens _somehow._ ”

Open palms raised high in surrender, Mike shrugged, the cheeky smirk remains as he turned around walking to the direction where Farlan and the others sit, “I leave you two poor pining souls to duke it out, I mean, sparring is a close substitute for sex, right?”

“ _Now_ you make it weird,” Faye muttered.

“Don’t tell me you gonna forfeit before I can even land a good hit,” Levi groused, folding his arms, “Not like I mind. For your own good too, you don’t stand a chance.”

Frazzled from Mike’s stunt, Faye seemingly lost half of his self-restraint keeping him composed; scoffing with a redundant eye-roll as he turned around to face Levi, voice dangerously low.

“Pray tell, _what_ makes you think you can even land one on me? I can break your spine–” he raised the metal nail clipper he seized from Levi to eye level, it effortlessly snapped between his fingers, “-in _half_.”

Grey eyes flickering from the broken clippers to Faye’s eyes, too fast for naked eye to track but Farlan saw they briefly lingered on Faye’s lips before resuming glaring murderously, jaws twitching from how hard his teeth grits. _He likes it._ Farlan wished he could bleach that realization from his mind.

Levi pointed to the nail-clipper on the ground, “That was my favorite. Better start collecting straws ‘cause you gonna walk away with empty gums, bastard.”

“ _If_ you win, you can ask me to buy you a new one,” Faye practically sauntered away to the other end of the circle, whilst taking off his uniform jacket. Earning plenty generous whistling from the crowd. “Don’t come to me crying when _you_ lost your teeth. Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure your bone structure is still intact, would be a loss to not recognize you anymore.”

Levi hacked a spit to the side, taking off his jacket in mirror of Faye, earning appreciative whistles from somewhere in the chortling crowd. Under the layer of jacket he shed, Levi's physique was truly worthy of the whistles. He didn't take off the red scarf -tucking the stray ends safely into the folds. “You should beg me not to break _yours_ , the only saving grace from your shitty attitude is your face, after all.”

“My face is one of my saving graces, my attitude is another. You, on the other hand...” The rest was left unsaid, spoken through how Faye stared Levi from feet to face. Shaking his head, he sighed helplessly, “Maria, _helps_ _us_ _all_.”

“Maria helps _yo_ _ass_ before I whoop ‘em.”

“Are they… flirting?” Sairam whispered uncertainly.

“I told you they’re fucking,” Mike replied, seating himself beside Sairam. “Or, _gonna_ fuck each other.”

“They’re gonna fucking kill each other, that’s what,” Farlan said dryly, rubbing off a migraine from his temple.

“I’m betting on the big guy,” Nanaba whispered conspiratorially to Mike, “he didn’t lose once, not even against you –no offense, Sir. The dead-eyed runt gonna be a smear on the ground.”

Wrong. Both of them gonna beat each other into pulps if nobody stepped in. Not because they like beating up the other, but because they’ll lose themselves from how fun it is sparring with your match. “I’m not betting on either of them. As far as I know, and I say this based on personal experience, Levi’s the only one who can match Faye.”

“Shit. For real?”

“Yeah. The real concern is, who’s brave enough to get in between them when teeth start flying?” Levi's a man of a few words, but a man of his words nonetheless.

Despite his gloating, Faye faced Levi with center lowered; fists high enough his arms nearly hid his face. Unlike how he faced his previous opponents, Faye prepared his signature fighting stance. He knew better than taking Levi lightly, even in a ‘friendly’ spar. Both of them were evenly matched in strength, skills, and efficient brutality. The only advantage Faye had over Levi was his stamina and that’s only by a thin margin. But now they’re completely equal, what, with Faye as tired as he's now.

Levi rolled his shoulders, folding his jacket neatly. Isabel leaped towards him, thoughtfully took it from his hands before skittering away again. Widening his stance, unlike Faye, who kept his body straight, Levi took up a near crouching stance, preparing to fly into motion at any given moment.

Hanji giddily skipped to the middle of the arena, “So, Crown or–”

“Wings,” Levi snapped.

Hanji faltered, they checked to Faye, who jerked his head in a way that conveyed ‘let him have his way’. “Whoever's side the coin lands, gets the knife!” the coin flipped to the air, silver catching the searing sunlight briefly turning to gold. 

It lands. Hanji yelled out, “Wings! Here ya go, grouchy!” the tossed knife caught mid-air, Levi didn’t even take his eyes off Faye. “First one to–”

“We get it, shitty glasses. Now remove yourself or _be_ removed.”

Not needing further encouragement, Hanji fled to the stacked logs seats, safely away from the range of carnage.

Farlan yelped when Isabel jumped on a stack of crate right beside him, cupping her hands around her mouth, “Fuck him up good, Levi-bro! I bet good coins on you! Faye, I’m prayin’ for ya!”

“Isabel!”

“You might wanna strip off your harness,” Faye said, dissipating whatever distraction from the spar, “that’s an invitation for me to grab and swing you around with.”

Levi scoffed, twirling his dummy knife into a reverse grip. “Not if I got my hands on you first.”

Faye grinning. He doesn’t have a nice grin. His grin is the kind that made titans run for the hills. “Let’s find out.”

“Spar’s over when the knife gets knocked out!” Farlan yelled in haste, before the bloodbath starts he could at least mitigate the damage. “Or if one person forfeits!”

“Like hell they’ll forfeit,” Isabel muttered beside him, “proud dumbasses they are. It’s either a knockout or someone’s kneecap gets bust.”

Hanji whistled to commence the match.

Nobody moved. Breaths held.

Levi dragged his feet to the side, cautious, he stalked the border. Not leaving his sight off Faye, who mirrored him. Circling each other. None of them made the first move, knew better than giving an opening to a powerful opponent. Especially Faye, Farlan believed Faye’s going to try to end this quick, with his stamina as depleted as it is.

“Why don’t you make this easier for us and just yield, Faye. You can _breathe easy,”_ Levi said, even though he knows it’s futile.

Faye scoffed. “Why ask _me_ to yield? If you don’t want to do this, then _you_ yield.”

Levi exhaled messily, frustrated. “Keep pushin’ me away, and I’ll shove you to a corner.”

“Try it, _midget_.”

A blur of black and blue like bruise shot like a bullet, followed by a brown and white one, the spectators are hard-pressed to follow their movement. Faye had somersaults over Levi to avoid his skidding a foot to trip him, but instead of simply sliding the rest of the way, Levi twisted into a handstand and leaped back on his feet, already dashing towards recovering Faye.

Faye weaved out of Levi’s kicks and slices, narrowly avoiding one swipe that would surely cut open his neck if the knife was a real thing. He landed a jabbing kick to Levi’s shin, staggering him off-kilter to the side, an opening for Faye to throw a gut punch. Levi redirected it with his hand, pouncing with knife brandished in turn, only for Faye to dodge him again and pushed his back to drive him off farther. Levi went stumbling, nearly colliding with the awed spectator, who scrambled to avoid him.

He recovered quick and leap again, knife thrust to stab deep. Levi whipped a high kick aiming for the temple, Faye ducked under, halting the kick with one hand, thrusting a knee to knock Levi’s own out of balance.

Levi elbowed down the knife, forcing Faye to leap back. However, Levi seized his hoodie’s string and jerks him, grappling Faye’s attempt at twisting his arm.

“Faye’s on defensive,” Nanaba observed, “he’s not aiming to damage at all, wouldn’t it be better if he went aggressive and end it quick?”

Farlan thought so too, as he watched Faye twisting out of a grapple when Levi caught him, kicking Levi’s shin and pushing him away with the next one. “It would. But, this isn’t really a fight…”

Levi reached out to snag Faye’s wrist, attempting to twist, Faye twirled his entire body in response, pulling Levi close only to deliver a knee to the gut. He tried to knock off the knife, Levi shot up to knock his head against Faye’s chin. They staggered away from each other, clutching their respective bruise. Farlan’s voice lilted into a soft whisper, realizing- “…It’s a dance.”

A dialogue, more like. Faye dodging and putting up distance, while Levi chasing and confronting. Their fight reflecting the talk they couldn’t have. Unlike before, Faye always subjugated his opponents without mercy, but against Levi, even when he could inflict the same treatment, he gave Levi a room. Not mercy. A chance.

But Levi couldn’t seize the chance when Faye kept avoiding him, he’s realized that, it seemed, when he stood still. Breathing controlled, waiting for Faye to make the first move. He couldn’t keep chasing after, it’s what Faye would expect him to do, and he’s going to lead him into an endless goose chase to shake Levi off his tail. Levi had to reel him in.

“W-what? You’re just gonna stand there, old man?” Faye goaded, his voice carried a flit of wheeze. “I thought you’re gonna hand my ass over to me?”

Levi didn’t answer. He narrowed his feet, arms up.

Faye’s own stance challenges him back.

Somehow, it infuriated Faye more than any verbal abuse could do. Farlan remembered Faye never taught any of them his unique fighting style. Keeping it to himself possessively.

Leaping into motion, Faye delivered a risky ax-kick to Levi’s shoulder, Levi had always been faster and more flexible. He easily dodging and answering with snatching the back harness and threw Faye back to earth.

Faye grunted, wheezing even when he pushed himself to backroll, on his knees, leaping and grappling the arm of Levi’s swiping knife aiming for his collarbone. Rather than having Faye knocked it out of his hand, Levi threw the knife away, then pushed almightily, driving them both to the ground.

They struggled against each other on the ground. Levi tried to pin Faye’s neck with his forearm. Yet it seemed like, the closer he is to the earth, the more power Faye gained. Even pinned right under Levi, he twisted one of Levi’s arm back, his legs entwined with one of Levi’s- striking primal fear into their hearts, Faye let out a terrifying roar, both the force of his grapple on Levi’s arm and leg threw him bodily off Faye.

Levi tumbled off, grunting and cursing, but managed to get on his hands and knees. Faye rolled too, onto his side, coughing. At the same time, they caught the sight of the knife, laying just a few steps away from them. They exchanged a look.

Farlan leaped off his seat. The knife is knocked off. “Hanji! Call this o–!”

Both dashed at the same time, targeting the knife. Levi’s not having it. He threw himself at Faye, shoulder against shoulder, tumbling them both to the ground again. Levi pinned Faye’s neck under his knee.

“Yield,” Levi exhaled, “Yield, Faye! You thick-headed jackass!”

Faye couldn’t answer. He instead seized Levi by his shirt collar, throwing Levi over him. He coughed and wheezed, standing back up.

But Levi took advantage of his tumble, the knife back in his hand. At that sight greeting him, Faye groaned, neck craned up as he complained to the heavens. “ _Really?_ Fuck this!”

Dashing straight at Levi, Faye shoots up seemingly to punch, Levi anticipated already whipping a knife to swing, but instead, Faye reeled in the last possible second into a roundhouse. Kicking Levi right on the cheek, throwing him far and hard to the ground, rolling and sliding across, stilling on his back open arms, like a bird shot out of the sky.

Farlan couldn’t quite hold back the gasp, reduced to a choke. Isabel slapped her hand to her mouth, eyes wide in horror.

Realizing his fallacy, Faye abruptly halted, the expression on his face another kind none of them had ever seen before. Gut-wrenching fear.

“Levi!” Faye sprinted to Levi’s still body, his voice ringing like roaring thunder, wobbling like the rattled glass of windowpane. “Levi! Levi! Plea-”

Faye went flying back, from Levi’s leaping off his back, delivering a vicious dropkick square on Faye’s chest.

He skidded across the ground, crumpled. Levi wasted no time, not even sparing a second to wipe blood off his split lip, he dashed and immediately pinned Faye immobile. Biceps pressed against Levi’s knees. The tip of the fake knife poking Faye’s throat.

Levi groused, a slight gargle in his tone, “I win,” he inhaled, exhaled a, “I win! Call off the match!”

Hanji’s long, shrill whistle obscured the sound of tearing cloth, people were fixated on Levi pressing his forehead against Faye’s rather than noticing his other hand had gone under the grey hoodie, ripping off a black material enveloping Faye’s torso. Farlan noticed. Faye gasped out, loud and deep, turning into wet coughs as Levi pulled back his face to give Faye room to wheeze and cough to his heart content.

“You- yo-” Levi coughing, regaining breath control to speak, rising back on his swaying feet, “you’re such a _pain,_ Flower Boy.”

Faye didn’t answer, wheezing behind his arm, he’s not taking his eyes off Levi though.

“I’m taking my prize. You can’t get away from me.”

To others, it might sound like Levi was demanding Faye to hold up the other end of the bargain, no bailing out. But Farlan understood. It’s Levi’s victory’s request.

Still wheezing, Faye stretched both arms up, palms open wide. At Levi. Looking like a kid demanding to be carried and swaddled.

Levi huffed, annoyed. “You- _motherfucker_. _Fine,_ ” he bends down again, scooping Faye into his embrace, but Faye didn’t help him with entwining legs around his waist, he kept Levi’s head caged on his shoulder. Tilting his head so his lips can reach Levi’s ear.

Farlan couldn’t make out what Faye whispered to Levi. But it coaxed Levi’s shoulders to sag, sighing, he grasped Faye’s legs and urged them to clutch his hips. With a heave, Levi brought Faye up along, carrying the taller man in his arms, who buried his face into Levi’s neck, hiding behind his own arms. snaking around Levi’s shoulders.

“We’re going to the infirmary,” his tone brooked no argument. Farlan could see, peeking from Faye’s loose hair, a blooming nasty bruise on Levi’s cheek. Blood still dribbled down his chin. His glare searing, scorching, more vicious than the sun at its worst, somehow managing to shot them at everyone all at once. Towards Hanji in particular. “If I catch any of you pulling this shit again, I’ll extract your entrails through your nostrils and spread it across this cursed ground for vultures to feast.”

With that, Levi strolled off, the crowd parted without his prompt to let him and his cargo through. They watched them crossed the training field, until they disappeared into the castle.

Uncomfortable, awkward silence shrouded them all. Looking at each other uncertainly, murmurs began to rise from the ashes. Until, Flagon came rushing in through the congregating soldiers.

“What are you all doing?! Get back to your stations!” the soldiers were more than relieved to disperse. Flagon turned his ire and confusion at Hanji, who increasingly becoming aware they’re getting chewed out. Despite the fact they outranked Flagon.

“Well,” Moblit began, as he rummaged into his jacket to pull a coin purse, didn’t push away Isabel’s awaiting palm right under his nose. Already piled with gold coins from Nanaba. “I understand now. They definitely _are_ close, huh.”

“Open another betting pool,” Mike chimed. “Let’s start with a, let's say, three months until they crack and bang each other.”

“No,” Farlan croaked, finally, his voice returned. “Those two has been like this for _years._ I’m betting at least another _decade_ ‘till one of them confess _._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...as you can see, I like making parallels. a lot. A lot of repeated history here. Erwin's 'true enemy' thing he said to Eren being echoed now by Eren to him, Hanji's first impression and their words to Eren about his hairstyle after he's detained in jail post-Liberio, The Infamous Kick (role swapped this time), etc. 
> 
> This chapter can be alternatively titled 'Eren Joined The Nerd Club' featuring: history nerd Erwin and titan nerd Hanji. Erwin kept getting a traumatic reaction at the sight of Faye, I feel kinda bad but at least he won't lose that arm this time around. right?
> 
> For nerdy and super observant readers who checked ACWNR manga or wikia, you might notice that ACWNR events happened in year 844, not 843... :) changing the course of history would affect its future as a whole after all. Oh, and I also insert some AOT Before The Fall manga references: Angel Aaltonen, Inocencio, and Xenophon are characters who made and improved the 3DMG, and this won't be the only references I'll adopt into the story :)
> 
> You bet Eren cried through the whole 'planning a new government' thing with Frieda. C'mon, the guy's dropped outta formal school at age nine right? He got no degree whatsoever, let alone equipped to make laws and navigate politics. He only gets this savvy about medical care and engineering from the memories of people he ate lmao. Thank god Frieda knows her stuff. It's mostly Frieda bouncing off ideas with all the proper theories and procedures and have Eren writing them all down, then they brainstormed 'till they're satisfied with the end results. Keep in mind, the reforms are temporary -a foundation if you will, so Frieda gonna improve them again once she rises to power.
> 
> Follow me on Twitter (@rosylilacpetal) for occasional fanarts, aot shitpost, and some tortured wailing about this fic's progress <3
> 
> Bonus \- what probably went down as Fri&Ere schemes the reforms:  
> Frieda, rapping to the tune of Non-Stop: "corruption's such an old song we can all sing along in harmony, and nowhere is it stronger than in this country. This colony's economy increasingly stalling and honestly, that's why public service seems to be calling me! I practice the law, I practically perfected it, I've seen injustice in the world and I've corrected it! Now for a strong representative democratic constitutional monarchy, if not I'll be Socrates throwing verbal rocks at these mediocrities!"  
> Eren, sobbing: "I don't understand what you're saying"  
> also Eren: "we gotta make better laws about sanitation and strict environmental laws"  
> Frieda: "ok. but why"  
> Eren: " _somebody_ gonna be really cranky when he found out the surface is as dirty as the Underground and I don't wanna deal with the ensuing tantrum."
> 
>  **[EDIT]** forgot to add:  
> Rosemary - _Fidelity, Remembrance_  
>  Other than its antioxidant properties that delays oxidation and decay through microorganisms, rosemary is traditionally carried by mourners at funerals. But also often worn by brides as a wreath on her wedding day as a symbol of love and a fidelity ;)


	6. Meager This Space but Serves Us So Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and I talk all the night long. Wir können uns gut verstehen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> acwnr arc isn't complete without So Ist Es Immer reference ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ . We had two consecutive action-packed chapters, so let's take a breather! \\(^0^)/ I heard it's ereri/rivaere middle birthday?? I dunno what that is exactly but i'm guessing it's celebrating the ship? i'm down for that. so yeah, let's call this chapter my participation for it!

** 843 **

“You’re a month late with the paperwork from last expedition.”

Flagon skidded to a halt, near-stumbling from abrupt twisting on his heels, to where he had just closed the doors to the mess hall, muffling the rambunctious laughter and murmuring camaraderie behind them, warm aroma wafted off the opened frame. With a firm but considerate slam, Erwin pressed it shut. The corridor all but deserted if not for the two of them. 

“What?” Flagon frowned, the uneasy glance averting from Erwin’s eyes to his shoulder spoke of his flounder, then, indignant. “I handed them over to you last month!”

“You did? Hmm,” fingers rubbing his chin, Erwin tilted his head. “I couldn’t have missed it, must be when Hanji came to visit my office...”

Flagon groaned to the ceilings, “Sina’s tits. My desk is building paper _hills_ already, did that maniac showed you something and spilled it on your desk again?!”

“No. But it did implode upon impact when they tripped on the carpet,” Implode it did, though the mishap happened far from the vicinity of Erwin’s office weeks ago. Flagon Squad’s reports were safe and sound sealed inside a neat, deceptively important brown folder, playing decoy in his locked cabinet for whichever clever hands managed to break into his office.

He had a feeling there would be a pair of them tempted enough, from how Farlan Church eyed his office window. Erwin felt little remorse for tricking Flagon to redo the reports, since they would be missing for real at some point anyhow.

“Are you going to settle the work pile early? I thought I saw you eating back there.”

Erwin pointed at the tray in Flagon’s hand. Upon it; a bowl full of curry gently steamed, accompanied by a couple of normal, digestible, savory… deflated… bread – _flatbread_ he believed they’re called. There’s also salad in a smaller bowl, a jug of water along with its mug, and a single tangerine. Another squad thankfully took over the kitchen duty for dinner from Hanji Squad.

“Nah. This is for that… doctor,” Flagon grumbled mulishly, exaggerating his rolling eyes. “I checked on him already earlier this afternoon, but,” he waved a vague hand gesture in an attempt to distract Erwin towards it. Ineffective. “Nifa said he can’t leave yet and he missed dinner. He’s part of my squad. My responsibility.” 

Flagon was a man who couldn’t, wouldn’t, let anyone saw himself beyond a stern and respected authority figure. But he’s such a bad actor, Erwin could easily saw through, how much he could get easily attached to people. Especially since he had lost most of his old squad in the last expedition, with only young Sairam remained. Part of the reason the Commander chose him to be in charge of the new recruits.

“You better start early then, I recall you also forgot to hand in the proposal for your squad’s supply. I can give that to him,” with a hand outstretched, Erwin offered him a smile, “I was about to visit the infirmary myself, for a checkup on my last injuries.”

Flagon squinted, turning his body slightly so his shoulder protecting the tray from Erwin’s offered hand. “What are you up to, Erwin? I don’t think my cadet would appreciate seeing the face of someone who assaulted him and his friends just yesterday so soon.”

Erwin huffed out a chuckle in place of sighing. Was he losing his touch people easily suspected him up to no good? Then again, it’s Flagon –his latest circumstantial scapegoat. “Faye is the most approachable of them, you saw how he is, didn’t you? Easily getting along with others. He wouldn’t like it, but he won’t be hostile.”

“Church is also approachable,” Flagon challenged. “A bit of a boot-licker, I would bet my soul to Sina it’s an act, but still level-headed and well-behaved. Unlike the other two… So, what’s your angle here.”

Only a day and he’s already acting like their begrudging mother. Erwin would’ve teased him, but he got bigger fish to fry right now. “I’d just like a couple of words with him, since I did promise the arrangement for the 3DMG deal. You just gave me a good excuse.”

“Without the Commander?” His frown deepened, eyes zeroing on a shirt draped over Erwin’s arm. “And what’s with the shirt?”

“Just some leftover laundry I forgot,” Erwin brushed off, the lie flowed easy, “I wouldn’t discuss anything too vital without the Commander, just a few questions to get a sense of what we needed to negotiate on, so the Commander will be better prepared and we’ll benefit more than we lost.”

The guarded stance visibly loosened from the Captain, the taut furrow of his brows remained, however. “Fine,” Flagon sighed. He thrust the tray out for Erwin to grab. “If I don’t give in, you’d still argue me under the table. Go, git.”

“I’m still higher ranked than you, remember?” Erwin teased, Flagon already weaving away past him.

“Not after dinner you’re not, Smith,” the other blond waved off. Before he opened the door to the mess hall again, he piped, “If anyone asks, I’m gonna pretend I didn’t know you visit him. You owe me one.”

“You’re not going to finish the paperwork in your office?”

“And leaving those brats unsupervised?” Flagon jerked a thumb to the door, yanking it open. “More paperwork for me to do.”

An idea materialized in his mind. “Perhaps you might want to properly discipline them,” Erwin suggested, “it’s important to implement discipline and respect, they need to be prepared for everything in battle. Though, I doubt you could give a significant effect on Underground thugs like them. You need someone whose words they cannot tune out, whose presence bears weight.”

Flagon hummed, fingers drumming on the door handle. “Not me, definitely not. Maybe…” a slow grin crept into his face, “…I’m not going to do it unless they did something drastic, they only just enlisted yesterday, but everyone had to taste The Rite of Passage.”

“He’s a hard-headed man,” Erwin said.

“Exactly like me,” Flagon nodded, ensured. He disappeared behind the door, shutting close with the momentum.

Erwin’s teeth gnashed tightly, in an attempt to deescalate his facial muscle from forming a triumphant smirk. He began making his way to the infirmary through the maze-like passageways. The old castle had its charms, the confounding corridors and random dead-ends served as means of defense. Tactically an advantage, but for lodgings of soldiers in the middle of bumfuck nowhere deep within Rose’s dense forestry, it’s a hassle to navigate. 

He didn’t bother knocking as he arrived.

“Section Commander Smith,” a young woman rose from her seat, twisting out from behind the medical staff’s desk. Saluting. “Do you require something, Sir? Have your injuries worsen?”

“At ease, Nifa,” she straightened back, but still alert. “I thought you had joined everyone else for dinner? It’s only the first week, no need to overwork yourself.”

“First week, yes, but already plenty of our active combatants are injured in some way,” she pointedly squinted at his right arm, as if she’s attempting to see through the sleeves, surely finding purpling skin in early stages of healing. “Just yesterday, you and Captain Zacharias came back with bruises and fractures. I told you both to take it easy, but today, I received even _more_ patients. Dozens, even. And it’s only the first Maria-forsaken _week._ ”

“I’ve heard of it,” Erwin looked around, craning his neck to check to the furthest bed, every partition screen dividing each bed was folded to let him did so. Each of them empty. “What has become of the perpetrator? You didn’t dispose his body in the forest did you?”

“I have more class, Sir. I took my Hippocratic oath,” she smiled honey-sweet, tucking her unevenly chopped auburn fringe behind her ear. “I wouldn’t dispose evidence so sloppily. There wouldn’t be any if I have my way.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” Hanji really know how to pick them. Even so young, Nifa was already their trusted medical staff, but her talent slanted more towards pharmaceutical and herbalism. Not versed in complicated treatment beyond first aid, such as surgery or advanced healthcare. “Where is he now?”

“He’s washing up,” Nifa pointed to a door at the far corner that leads to the bathroom. “I was against it, but…”

“He’s persistently persuasive, wasn’t he?” The eyes darting to the floor and the tick at the side of her jaw was enough answer. Erwin offered her a reassuring chuckle, “I’ll take it from here, Nifa. On behalf of Captain Flagon, I’m delivering him his meals and escort him back to the barracks. You should join the others in the mess hall.”

“I will. Thank you, Sir,” she saluted one last time before taking her leave, Erwin mindfully stepped aside for her. Nifa hesitated before the door, “Oh, right. Sir? Please give Mr. Faye that antiseptic cream I left on the desk, for his bruises. And there’s cold compress in the basin beside his bed.”

“Thank you, Nifa. I’ll make sure it is done.”

Erwin walked towards a bed with rumpled sheets and unmade blanket, placing the tray right beside the aforementioned basin filled with melting ice and a clean cloth just after Nifa slipped behind the door, leaving him lonesome with only chirping crickets outside and sound of splashing water behind the bathroom door accompanying the echo of his boots upon wood floorboards.

The infirmary was a bright, large, elongated room, built with high curved ceilings and curtain-closed windows as tall as the walls. A part of the wall behind the medical staff station has built-in wooden cabinets covering it entirely from ceilings to floor –full of herbs, assortments of medical tools, and medicine. Other than two doors leading to bathrooms, there are one for large storage room and another for surgery.

Erwin hefted a wooden chair from the staff station to the bedside, pocketing the metal tin of cream from the staff’s desk while he’s at it. He’s taking a seat right when a doorknob clicked open.

“Miss Nifa? Do you happen to have a big spare shirt lying around?” Stepped out with only black trousers and towel drying his hair, Faye strode barefooted with a hangdog expression behind his long fringes. Eyes big and bright, voice saccharine soft, surely to melt a heart or two. “My hoodie wasn’t _that_ dirty.”

“After you rolled around in the dirt all day, I’d say she had the right mind to rid of it for you.”

Erwin merely smiled enigmatically after he ducked from a bar of soap hurled off a makeshift sling Faye fashioned from his towel, a hair-breath away from fracturing his skull if it wasn’t for his reflexes –he didn’t even see Faye swinging it, he only heard his instinct screamed _Death_ _Imminent!_ before his reflexes took over. The soap smashed into smithereens upon impact against the floor.

It’s a jarring switch from a harmless sad-puppy-eyed-look young man to a merciless executioner his cold expression impressed upon. Erwin held up his hands, “I come in peace. Look, I even brought you dinner.”

“Erwin,” Faye breathed out, “I could’ve killed you. Don’t scare a man like that.”

His eyebrow ticked at the casual first-name use. But then again, he did invite the man to call him so yesterday in the office. “I’m more concerned your first instinct was to kill someone when they caught you off guard.”

“Anyone caught me slipping won’t live to tell the tale. But that won’t kill you. Maybe leave a nasty swelling and knock you out cold,” Faye slunk to the bed, blinking bewilderedly at the tray of food. With his head tilted and vibrant eyes wide, he looked like a curious cat finding something shiny and breakable with just a single mischievous, compulsive nudge off the table’s edge. Erwin felt irrational need to grip the corner of the tray from the splitting imagery –all of the sudden afraid the food would meet a premature end on the floor.

“I expect this from Flagon, but y–? Ah. You accosted him, didn’t you?”

Sharp as ever. Erwin’s smile broadened, an enough confirmation for Faye, who made himself comfortable lounging on the bed and gathering his sleek hair into a bun. “It’s a good excuse to visit you. So, what do you make of the infirmary?”

“It’s well-maintained. The hygiene isn’t half-bad, thorough sanitation would help. Maybe install ceramic tiles instead of wooden floorboards; easier to clean, and nothing gets soaked into the wood, preventing more diseases to spread. But the equipment and medicine…” Faye wrinkled his nose at the wooden built-in cabinet critically whilst scooping the curry bowl and a piece of flatbread to be balanced on his lap.

“…are a bit outdated, in my opinion. You have no access to vaccines in case the soldiers caught foreign diseases from– wait, were vaccines invented yet-? …Epidemic… 832…” the rest of his sentence dragged into an incoherent mutter, further muffled by his palm raised to cover his mouth, frowning deeply in thought. Utterance incoherent and scattered, “Did he already…? But that would rouse-- Ugh. Of all _times_ I can’t remember…”

Erwin coughed politely. “Vaccines were invented about a decade ago, through a research conducted by a team of doctors and scientists from Einlich University of Stohess,” it’s possible Faye had missed out plenty of medical advancement, from his time suffocated in the Underground, but considering his impressive information network… that couldn’t be the case.

“Ah,” Faye relaxed, his face awash in relieved enlightenment. “Based on a dissertation about immunology, right? From a young graduate as part of his requirement for his medical practitioner license? I remember now. Sorry, my memory’s a bit scrambled.” 

Erwin hummed in assent. Tucking that information to the backburner, to be scrutinized later in private. “To be clear, we have annual checkups to ensure our immunizations are up-to-date.”

“I am aware. I checked the records,” Faye jutted his chin to the staff’s station, not one bit guilty at Erwin’s reproachful look for his snooping. “But it’s only for common diseases, not for the more exotic ones soldiers might contract outside the Walls,” he kissed his teeth in frustration, shaking his head. “Nevermind, I’ll rectify that later. The infirmary also missing some life-support equipment; medical ventilators, blood transfusion set… But nothing far worse compared to the state of _that room._ ”

Faye fixed a disgusted scowl towards a particular door at the end of the infirmary, “I nearly got cardiac arrest from seeing the state of the operating roo– no, the appropriate name for it would be _torture room._ Maria, did none of you ever properly sanitized and maintain the room? The tools there got rust! The entire room is violating _dozens_ of health regulations!"

“We barely had to use that room,” and more often than not, there’s no time to save anyone in that room. They either died beyond the Walls, or died on the road back to the castle. “Hopefully with you here, you can remedy all the inadequacy. Maybe even train some of our soldiers for field medic.”

“Some? I would have _all_ of them taught emergency medical care. And train some showing knack for it to be clinicians proper,” Faye hummed thoughtfully. “Nifa is quite skilled, knowledgeable, certainly a lot of potential. I talked to her, and she strikes me more of a chemist. Knows her medicine well, but still need proper education and training on medical treatment and nursing to be truly called a nurse.”

“I thought so too. Hanji snatched her into their squad for her skills in chemistry. She had proven herself capable, despite her young age, I’m sure she would be more than happy to learn from you,” Erwin nodded to Faye’s intrigued eyebrow quirk at his remark. “Nifa has the ideal combination of talent and diligence fit for the profession, she would’ve thrived should she continued her studies to one of the prestigious universities in the Interior Sina.”

“She’s from Maria, wasn’t she? I recognized the local anesthetic she used –really traditional, her mother or other relatives who taught her must be a midwife. And the herbs she preferred for poultices are native around eastern Maria,” The lining of Faye’s lips curled like he took a sip of rotten milk, his next tone carried certain bitterness. “Commoners without a wealthy sponsor can’t even dream of entering universities, let alone those who came from outside of Sina.”

Erwin sighed in commiseration, he was lucky enough to be born in Inner Sina, with a teacher for a father. He used to hear many complaints of the similar veins from his late father about the injustice of their educational system. “Yes, and the tuition isn’t the only problem. The entrance fee, the fee for inter-region passes, study equipment –even the exam for medical license isn’t free. Not to mention the uneven spread of education facilities and the lack of proper socialization for the importance of learning and basic literacy.”

Faye ripped his flatbread with his canine, chewing like he had half a mind to grind his molars to dust. “Schools and universities should be available in other regions, not just the Capital, it should’ve spread evenly throughout the kingdom! People in remote villages don’t even have proper schools! Half of the populace is illiterate! The costs for education should’ve been covered by the government, especially for the future healthcare workforce!”

“Ideally, it should be. Unheard of, though. The council in Capital would’ve gone ballistic on you if they heard the idea,” Erwin chuckled dry, imagining the pandemonium of self-centered aristocrats pointing accusing fingers at righteously irked Faye, whom he sure would’ve pitilessly tear each of them a new one. “Those things could be rectified if only the taxpayers received an equal amount of benefit as to the amount they’ve paid for. And if the government viewed it as an investment… Free education wouldn’t quite be a pipe dream.”

“Fuck them high-class pigs. Fuck’s sake, it affects the Wall’s welfare quality! We’re not just talking about public healthcare here anymore, we’re gonna be stuck as a backward, regressing society if this won’t change! Education shouldn’t be a luxury!”

He nodded firmly, Faye’s fury contagious, scalding his throat and ribcage his tone came out terse. “Education is the point at which we decide whether we love the world enough to assume responsibility for it. To have our government indifferent, neglected to nurture and advance the state of our country’s education, and the people kept ignorant of its importance, painted a terrible future awaits us.”

Erwin knew he could attract sponsors to enter university, but ultimately decided to pursue the military enlistment route. Not because like many others, he found diving straight into economically-beneficial careers to be more practical, but for his and his father’s ambition to prove their truth could open an urgent need to the people. A need to learn more of the world.

“Although, things start looking up. The progress after the educational reforms are passed seems promising,” He neatly folded his brooding into a smile, “I’m thrilled with anticipation for what you’ve prepared under the sleeves to rectify this country next.”

His bristling, scorching righteous flame abated; Faye looked almost abashed at his outburst, Erwin could catch the nigh-invisible moment he donned back his impassive mask.

Faye batted away his poking and prodding attempts on the topic, tone mild, “On the other note, I’m actually concerned there are no licensed physicians around. Don’t every military branch were assigned a couple of them, along with volunteers? Even soldiers practice drills could be dangerous; especially 3DMG drills.”

“We do. They usually appoint a doctor from the Capital and assistant volunteers, but it’s still the first week, they’ll be here around the second week when training gets more laborious and dangerous.”

Not minding the topic divergence, Erwin took a moment to exhale a satisfied breath. He couldn’t remember the last time he got to freely rant and debate. It’s fun. Everything else aside, Erwin really hoped Faye planned to stay around for long. Having a conversation partner who understood your vision and opinion while maintaining their own set that could parry against his was something of a bliss.

“I was hoping perhaps you’d be willing to teach the soldiers more medical skills? I can arrange something with the Commander.”

“I don’t mind, but I just got here. They don’t quite trust me to heed what I can teach them.”

“Nonsense. You worked fast. Already, the soldiers are talking about your skills, how _nice_ and charismatic you are. I believe Hanji is quite smitten.”

“They would. I’m a new, interesting and complicated puzzle to play with. The way to Hanji’s heart is through poking their curiosity,” Faye ripped a flatbread in half, dipping it into the warm curry. “They already unraveled chunks of me in the first twenty minutes, good at distraction too. So, with all that info they gathered for you, what’s your prognosis of me?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m not tolerating your bullshit right now, especially with an empty stomach,” Faye said through a chewing mouth. “Who else can give them permission to look into my property? Which _you_ confiscated. I bet you gave them my journal too, to make them even more curious.”

“They can’t discern any of the letters at all, so your secrets are still safe,” Erwin discarded any pretense of innocence, he really should’ve done that the moment Faye showed himself. “I still can’t get a clear picture of you, but my initial suspicion was right. You’re not from Sina, but somewhere unbelievably far as Shinganshina? How did you even get inside Mitras in the first place?”

“Was my accent that obvious?”

It’s faded, honestly, nearly indistinguishable from Standard. But it was clearer, when Erwin first met him. Must have been from the pressure of high-adrenaline and intensive labor of combat. Hanji was an expert at picking up details and analyzing thoroughly on the fly, they would easily catch on it while multitasking between obnoxiously distracting and satisfying their intellectual hunger. Which made them perfect to dissect the enigma in front of him.

“No. But one can’t really cut off from their roots.”

Faye didn’t have a reply to that. He went back to blowing spoonful of curry before taking his time slurping it down, stuffing in the flatbread along. Erwin used the gap of silence to appraise the man.

His wounds were less grievous than Erwin expected. The bruises and chaffing were healing nicely, though still discolored. Watching the match from start to finish, taking note of every injury, he wouldn’t believe the wounds only centered on his torso and nowhere else if he’s not seeing the evidence right before his eyes right now.

Not even scars on any parts of his body –an expected trait of a man with combat skills of his caliber. He’s expectedly well-muscled, but more lean-built than heavy-set. Hanji did say his diet consisted mostly of vegetables, speaking out his apparent dislike of red meat –the most effective diet to build muscles and fat needed for someone with his strength and stamina.

How odd. Where did all of that inhuman power come from?

“My eyes are up here,” His eyes drifted back to Faye’s own, staring back with his resting ‘my bullshit-tolerance is low right now’ look behind his mug. “Normal person don’t stare at people’s chest like you wanna dissect it, Erwin.”

“You didn’t sustain any wounds other than the overuse of your binder. You fought eighteen people for three hours without a break. How is that possible?”

“I heal quick, got a lot of stamina,” the salad was placed onto the flatbread, topped with bits of curry, Faye wrapped them into half to bit off. “The charms of living healthy. You should try it.”

Nothing was healthy about living in a giant gutter deprived of sunlight and proper food. He wouldn’t get anywhere else with the topic now brushed off, Erwin diverged to another. “Levi proved to be your undoing, it seemed,” Erwin prodded, playing with fire. “His skills are peerless. Outshines everyone else on everything, his maneuvering skills are nothing I’ve ever seen either. And–”

“And he’s off-limits,” if possible, the temperature of the room dropped drastically from the menacing turn of tone the voice adopted. Erwin’s right arm sang of thousand needle spasm as Faye skewered him with a deceptively bored, stifling look from under his long lashes. Ever-slightly slouched as if sagging in casual indolence, but in actuality, he’s crouching to pounce. Erwin wondered what manner of madness Faye could inflict upon his person with the spoon in his grip. “So does the other two, as per our agreement.”

“Which we haven’t agreed on concretely, merely talked about,” Erwin smiled mild as milk, poise cutting-edge pristine. Not to be deterred. Once again his interrogation attempt blocked completely, but Faye ineffably opened a new topic to be breached. “However, I’ve sent the necessary documents for one of the terms you asked. It will be done within two months.”

“Two months. And the expedition is less than three months away,” Faye frowned, one hand scraping clean the bowl off of the last dredges of curry with the remaining cut of flatbread. “It could be more than two, then what would happen if it wasn’t done when the expedition is due?”

“Then, I’m afraid it’s up to you to convince the Commander to do something about it,” Erwin said, placing a hand under his collarbone. “ _I_ certainly can’t, I was the one who stuck out a neck just to have you all enlisted into the Corps. It would be suspicious.”

Finished washing down the last mouthful of his dinner with water, Faye sighed, “I suppose it would. When will we have the meeting with the Commander?”

“He said it would be two months from now,” one of Faye’s eye twitched in irritation. Ah. Thank Sina he thought ahead of bringing something to appease him, feeling it poking from his inner breast pocket.

“We’ll be busy training the soldiers, so the only feasible time for it would be then. Commander Shadis believed we can’t muster up extra funds for the materials you’ll need to craft the new 3DMG, so we must ensure this expedition successful to gain those funds," the explanation smothered Faye's irritation somewhat. "In the meanwhile, we’re planning to keep you around longer and see if you survived your first expedition, then we’ll get back to the deal. But don’t worry, I might’ve done… something, to cut down the waiting time so you might meet the Commander ahead of schedule.”

“Of course you did,” Faye began peeling a tangerine. “So it’s just waiting game from here.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to pass the time. Playing cat-and-mouse with Levi for three months, perhaps?” Erwin caught a slice of tangerine thrown at him, popping it into his mouth. “The grapevine gave me the impression that your relationship with him wasn’t in the best terms at the moment. Was it part of your plan to distance yourself from your friends? I can’t have you sleep on my office couch again, so you’re going to stay here then.”

“No,” Faye mulishly pinched off the seed from a tangerine slice. “I promised him. I won’t run away. I have to face him.”

Erwin assumed he was talking about Levi’s demand for his victory, which nobody knew explicitly. So, Levi must’ve demanded a private conversation. “It’s just a bet,” Erwin plucked the cleaned tangerine from Faye’s fingers, who scowled but let him got away with it. “You could always twist it to your benefit, abuse the technicality.”

Faye shook his head. “I could never betray my words, no matter how light, not when it’s him.”

Erwin reclined back on his chair, lips quirked in satisfaction. Levi was his undoing, indeed. Faye answered his smile with a sharp, yet exasperated look, seemingly hearing his inner conclusion. _And_ he’s off-limits.

“Whatever you’ve heard or think, our relationship isn’t like _that_. At all.”

“Like what? Lovers? Two individuals pining after one another?” Erwin pushed forward, dared to pluck another peeled tangerine slice from Faye’s lap, who was more appalled at his words rather than his theft –he looked like he took a good bite of the tangerine’s seed. Hm. So, not romantic attraction. He’s not sure of Levi’s side yet, though. “You care a great deal for your friends, but it’s clear you treat Levi differently.”

At a high vantage point behind the window of his office, he couldn’t catch every variety of facial expression flitting across a person’s face. But if there’s a tangible language that couldn't translate lie, it’ll be the body’s subconscious movement. Hanji had unknowingly –or perhaps it was intentional? One could not say for sure when it comes to Hanji– helped Erwin; by arranging that spar, Faye confessed a secret he hoarded away from snooping ears deluded by his words.

“Faye, are you aware you’re dealing with people as if following instructions in your head?”

Meticulously choosing his words, keeping range of expressions in a constant level of mildness, Faye placed an opaque veil dividing him and people around him. He obviously handled Erwin with underlying vigilance, speaking as if walking on a suspended rope, balancing between bargaining and intimidation. He acted differently in accordance with the interlocutor, following a particular scripted scenario with the right people, shifting methods like a professional dealer shuffling the cards.

It was easier to observe it at breakfast, when Faye was preoccupied with others demanding his attention to realize Erwin’s scrutiny. How he restricted Hanji to an intellectual debate and distancing immediately from a personal topic. Setting a professional polite distance with Sairam and Flagon –going so far as subtly humbling Flagon with superior knowledge to deter the Captain from seeking his attention, without earning Flagon’s animosity in the process. Even with his friends; treating both Isabel and Farlan like an older sibling to his youngers, maintaining a certain power imbalance.

Yet, with Levi-

“What makes him the only exception you show your true self to?”

With Levi, he gave him freedom. No restriction, no distance, no veil. He distanced himself now, but there’s a degree of respect Faye adhered to Levi, how his every words mattered a great deal that Faye took immediate actions for it –halting him when Levi confessed his degrading faith in the Corps, making sure he heard Sairam’s view of it. He didn’t aim to defeat in the spar, he aimed to _match._

Head tilted, eyeing Erwin like he once did to the tray of food –a cat about to shatter porcelain. Faye placed his chin on his palm, elbow propped on one knee.

“You’ve been in the Corps for long. You understood the weight of lives. They’re like currency out there, the price we paid for every intake of air we took outside the Walls,” something within his voice compelled Erwin not to look away as he nodded. Unheeding of the juice dripping from his fingertips, he listened close. “And for that, we’re debtors, who knew full well we cannot truly pay them back in a single lifetime.”

The epiphany pushed Erwin back reclining on the chair. He didn’t quite suspect sense of gratitude to be the motive.

“He saved your life,” Faye had looked away by now, the first to break gaze from Erwin. Guilt. Gratitude. The two harmonize together in melancholic, jarring symphony within this man. “So you feel like you can be honest with him,” Trust him enough to show your true colors. Everything became transparent, when your life was in the hand of others.

“I don’t have feelings for him,” Faye insisted, turning back his gaze to meet Erwin’s. That quiet confidence and stoic composure returned to their place, the veil’s opacity thickened. “He’s just a person I’m indebted to.”

A word of assurance. Was it for Erwin, or for himself? But one thing remained clear: Levi was Faye’s undoing. He might be off-limits, but who to say, if Levi himself approached Erwin first?

...Perhaps, he'd take a gamble again. Erwin had a feeling it would fall on his favor this time.

“Then you better get back to him. You’ll need this,” Erwin retrieved the item in his breast pocket, handing it to Faye, who took it almost with indignant disbelief. “I figured this would help reduce whatever dispute you both need to settle. He seemed to be quite attached to it.”

“Great,” Faye grumbled, twirling the item in his hand. “Now I owe you.”

“Must you always take my intention with a grain of salt? Think of this as a show of good faith,” Sighing, he rose from his seat, offering the shirt he brought with him. “Don’t wear it yet, you need to apply some antiseptic cream Nifa prepared for you. You shouldn’t wear anything constricting, my body is broader than yours so it should be comfortably loose. Do you bring alternatives to binders with you?”

“I had myself prepared if anything like this should happen.” Faye relieved him of the clothing, inspecting it carefully with squinted eyes. “Don’t worry your well-groomed eyebrows about it.”

“Why do I have a feeling like you enjoy making fun of me too much?”

“You have _no_ idea of the _tremendous_ measure of glee it brought me, Section Commander. Now, let’s pick up where we left off. About the signaling system in the new formation, I’d like to propose an idea…”

.

The sun had long sunk beyond the firmament, burning away the sky into a coal-like blackened husk. Engulfed within a cocoon of blanket, enshrouded by the blinding darkness and heated air of his own measured breath, Levi held a star, its radiance chasing away the tenebrous night, in his palm.

Careful not to lie on the pillow with his gauze-wrapped swollen cheek, his thumb traced over the glowing stone’s smooth, iridescent surface for the nth-time. Occasionally breaching out of the blanket fold to inhale fresh air and squinted at the door. Ears straining over the buzzing snores to catch echoes of footsteps from outside.

Isabel had lent him her glowing necklace without much fuss, after he stormed out of the infirmary, indignant over being kicked out by the on-duty nurse. There he left Faye laid on one of the beds, sweaty and snoring away.

Levi had threatened all measures of bodily and mental harm on the nurse, drawn out her oath upon the goddesses, her entire ancestral line, and pretty much everything else under the sun to keep Faye’s body condition under air-tight wraps before he begrudgingly let himself be shooed out. It’s really frustrating, after busting his ass off in a stupid fight, Faye had no decency to stay awake so they could talk it out all proper.

He’ll be fit for discharge sometime in the evening, the nurse had assured him (half-berating, half-stuttering in fright), after dinner at the very least.

It’s way past dinner already, everyone else had snored out into dreamland for a good couple of hours by now.

 _Damn_. Levi kicked out of the blanket, jaw sore from gritting teeth too long, not helping his injury –damn Faye and his stupid titan legs. He should’ve parked out in front of the infirmary for an ambush. Faye definitely camped out somewhere in the castle again. Or, he persuaded the nurse to let him stay for the night.

He trusted Faye to keep his words, ‘cause Faye ain’t the type to back outta promise, but he would’ve found a loop-hole around it. Knowing his luck, the promise’s term would be fulfilled but not the way Levi wanted it.

He’s about to leap off the top bunk when heard it. Thumps and thuds of boots. Echoing faintly outside. He counted them, the echo somehow layered atop each other, like stacking their best hands at cards, racing for victory. Two pair of feet. A muffled shuffling indicating a pause, followed by low murmuring as if drowned underwater. Levi couldn’t hear them from where his bunk was placed near the end of the barracks, maybe if he crept to the-

The doorknob wobbled. He barely dunked back into the blanket before the door swung open, streaming in amber torchlight to cut the floor. Long, drawn-out creaking of hinges, then, a careful click. Complete darkness returned.

Levi strained his ears, listening to subdued footsteps upon the cold stone floor. Heavy but careful, yet never shuffling, never dragging –no hesitation, each step measured. Faye doesn’t have a swinging gait, but he always stalked as if treading above bear-traps invested ground.

A tall, fuzzy silhouette stopped in front of his bunk, he heard faint breathing from behind the blanket. A hum. Then, a near-inaudible sound of mattress sighing from bearing sudden weight, the leather of boots creaking from strain, then dropped, one, two, to the floor. Finally, shuffling sounds from movement ducked and crawled into the empty bunk below his.

Now’s his chance.

Levi whipped out of the blanket lightning-quick, not giving his prey time to react before he grabbed hold the bedframe then swung down to the bottom bunk, colliding against bare skin- his palm clamped shut a curse-spitting mouth.

He got Faye effectively pinned to the wall, incredulously wide-eyed glare clear to be seen with the shining crystal in Levi’s free hand. Faye licked his palm. Bastard definitely prepared generous ammunition of spit ‘cause his palm coated with a baby pool of slobber now. 

“Sonuvabitch!” Levi hissed, wiping his desecrated palm on the wall beside Faye’s bare shoul- wait. “Why in the three Walls are you _naked?”_

“Goddamnit, Levi, can’t you say ‘hi, welcome back’ like a normal person?” Faye hissed back, pinching Levi’s bare abs to get him to scoot over. “I was going to wear a shirt before a deranged _ape_ assaulted me. Oh, and my ribs were on the verge of collapsing –thanks for that, by the way. Why are _you_ naked?”

“Ain’t got a lot of shirts to spare. You, on the other hand-” he shoved the aforementioned shirt to Faye’s face, buying time for Levi to ogle a bit longer without getting called out for it. “-are the dumbass who walks ‘round nude at witching hour tryna catch a cold. Shit. You look like you got ran over by a wagon.”

Red, yellow, even purple bruises blooming like psychedelic moss splattered across Faye’s torso. Severely angry chafing under his arms and between his chest tissues are accompanied by bruises snaking his ribs, the sight awakened a frothing brine of anger and disappointment within Levi. If Isabel hadn’t come tattling, it probably would’ve been drawn-out longer by that shit-for-glasses mad scientist. He should’ve ditched Flagon faster and ended the whole circus-making of Faye sooner. Why the hell he even played along anyway? 

“Just a little bruise, I already washed them before coming back here. It’ll heal in the morning.”

A _little_ bruise. And Levi supposed a stab wound was a papercut to Faye. Knowing him for so long, this kind of understating injuries shit he pulled ain’t nothin’ new. Suicidal bastard.

He clicked his tongue, “Tch. Shoulda bring cornstarch for the chafing, but _no_ , you brought a whole bag of _cookies_ instead,” his knuckles knocking against Faye’s forehead, checking for any occupant behind the skull. “You’re the smartass, Faye. So damn smart you are, why you gotta be so dumb when it comes to sortin’ out your priorities?”

“What’s the point? It’s going to be confiscated anyway –the soldiers would think it’s illegal drugs or something,” Faye reached out a hand, sneaking underneath Levi’s chin. He let it tilted his head to the side, showing his wounded cheek, clamping the sides of his mouth gently to force his jaw open; for Faye to eye Levi's mouth cavity critically. “You didn’t lose a tooth, thank Maria. The swelling’s shrunk, it’s healing well. But how’s your sunburn? I think we can get the aloe vera salve from Farlan’s stuff.”

“I’m good, already used that salve,” Levi pried the hand away by the wrist, the skin warm –almost feverish but it’s normal for Faye. His thumb thrumming from the pulse underneath. Quick pumps, a slight tremor. Faye’s nervous. Doesn’t look like it, but his eyes kept flickering to Levi’s cheek more than his own eyes. Levi seized his attention away, “You got off the worst. I’ll get some of that salve for you.”

Faye shook his head, rummaging his pocket for something. Held between Faye’s fingers, a cylindrical tin insistently peeked under Levi’s nose, vivid green eyes staring at him expectantly. “Nifa gave me this cream. I checked the ingredients, it’ll be effective for the bruising. Now, help me with my back.”

“Who’s Nifa?” He snatched the container from Faye, who already turned his back, facing the wall. “The nurse? She’s spouting shit already, huh. Tch. The nerve, should I make an example of my promise?”

Carefully, with his weather-worn hands, Levi rubbed the cream across the discolored patches of skin. Used to see them smooth and unblemished. Faye didn’t have an inch of scar across his body, it’s a damn marvel and irritating cause sometimes Levi couldn’t stop staring whenever Faye changed clothes or they had to share a shower when water supply’s thinning out in summer –he didn’t realize he’s staring, but Farlan helpfully told him since _he’s right there too, dammit Levi, keep your eye-fucking to yourself_.

“No. She’s very understanding, actually. I trust her, she’s one of Hanji’s,” the silhouette of Faye’s side profile’s shadow on the wall wrinkled, Levi already knew he’s frowning in disapproval before his face turned. “You threatened her? _Levi.”_

“Your body is nobody’s business but your own. If she knows what’s good for her, she better keeps her mouth shut,” Levi grumbled, rolling his thumb on the soft spot under a shoulder blade. “Sore anywhere?”

 _“Everywhere,”_ Faye’s head lolled forward, forehead fell against his knees. A long and deep groan from Faye’s throat trembled not only his own back but also, Levi’s suddenly goosebumped arms, skittering up to his hitching heartbeat. “Do you _have_ to dropkick me on the chest? I think my nipples are dead.”

“Serves you right, wearing that thing too long,” Despite the suddenly tight throat, he’s quite proud his voice came out steady through his gnashing teeth. “You told us yourself, _four hours_. You’re pushing it.”

The bruised skin disappeared under a thin, soft-fabric shirt –clearly not Faye’s, the wide sleeves reaching over wrists and collars worn-out loose it lolled over one golden-tanned shoulder. Levi averted his gaze from it, instead, taking his time trailing up from sturdy shoulders to straining neck muscles, to jaw turning, to lips- finally, to one gem-like eye looking behind a shoulder just to stare exasperatedly at Levi.

“I got enough lecture from Nifa my eardrums still itch. So consider your dressing-down quota fulfilled.”

“Clearly ain’t enough,” Faye let Levi pushed him down to the mattress, facing the wall as Levi slithered underneath the sheets, a hair-breath away from pressing his chest to Faye’s back, minding not to go through with it because of the cream. Levi reached for the hair-tie keeping Faye’s hair in a roll, pulling slow, the other hand anchoring the hair to Faye’s scalp to prevent accidental removal and additional pain. “Everything I said to you entered one ear and leaked out the other these days.”

Exhaling a heated breath, he could feel his ribs protesting from expanding his chest for breathing, it burned. Like running up and down an endless flight of stairs, he wanted to keep sighing, as if substituting for labored breathing that couldn’t be realized. His heartbeat had been beating for a mile a minute.

Served him right, chasing after his name and making him an important, integral part in his life, Levi couldn’t bear the thought of parting from him.

It’s like those days again. Running up and down carved-earth stairs to breathe fresh air and sunbathe, chasing after a stationary target but never seemed to reach him. Now, when Levi had just settled down, Faye decided, of all times, to move forward.

And it looked like he’s got a ‘leaving Levi behind’ agenda in mind.

“That’s not true.”

Faye rolled to face him, Levi didn’t realize he had stolen the shining pendant from his hand, now that it’s in Faye’s. It shone clear, showing to Levi what he’s been desperate to see.

That mask of polite amicability and unflappable composure he’d been wearing all day, the kind he wore whenever Faye went away to visit the black market and brothels, meeting up with clients or just indulging a stranger to a chat, all fell away. Like the grim sky pouring down its burdensome drizzle, making way for resplendent blue. The quiet cold guise melted.

“I’m here, now. Aren’t I?”

 _I listened. I kept my promise,_ the eyes vivid and burning with tempered flame seemed to say. Expression vulnerable and strong all the same, brows crushed deep with focus, with earnestness. His voice, less of an ironed-smooth croons and more like a growl, like he’s been screaming his throat out raw –imperfection from the seemingly perfect person, and that brought some kind of comfort; there’s humanity in him.

All of a sudden, Levi missed that face. Missed that voice too, now that he realized he hadn’t seen and heard them for a while. The very same mannerism Faye had when Levi first met him; all spitfire temper and brutal honesty and clumsy compassion, when it’s only the two of them. Years passed and still Levi wanted to rob those star-fire eyes just to feel their ardor and maybe burn alive.

“You’re here,” Levi assented. Huffing from his nose in lieu of shuddering, sighing heavy, or anything else that could give him away. Discreetly gulping his parched throat, he distracted Faye to his gloat. “Scared I would go after your chickenshit ass for bailing outta the bet?”

Faye snorted, rolling his eyes lazily with an irritable smirk making his nose to scrunch. Ah, he missed that too. The rebellious, cheeky attitude –he got a tease of it from the spar’s smack-talk, the glimpses only made him crave for it more; the arrogance, the sass, the sheer audacity of this beautiful little fuck. “Nah. I just felt bad. Bet you’ve been losing sleep, not having me around as a pillow.”

He definitely didn’t miss the seeing-through-him part though. Levi scowled, “I slept just fine. _You_ couldn’t go through a night without waking up from a nightmare, where have you been sleeping last time?"

“Somewhere nice and cozy, and super clean, you would’ve approved. Anyway, I’m here now, so,” Faye slipped the pendant under the single pillow the bed provided –draping darkness back into the barracks. He drew up the blanket up to his forehead. “G’night, don’t kick me around too much.”

“Oh no, you ain’t pullin’ this dodgin’ and escapin’ shit again,” Levi whipped the blanket off, pulling it over the two of them. The shining stone pendant dragged back out, now lighting only their little privacy tent on top of the pillow, right above their heads. He found Faye scowling with dejected air about him. Levi ain’t havin’ it.

He kept his hissing low, “Look at me –no, don’t give me that look. You’ve been all distant with us, and you can’t even look at me in the eyes. We can do this the easy way, or I’m gonna do something drastic.”

“What, like beating the shit out of me?”

“ _Jaeger,”_ Faye’s teeth made an audible click as his mouth fused together so tight his jaw ticked, finally, their eye-contact remained steady. Levi lowered his tone, “I’m sick of your games. Ain’t you tired of actin’ like some dealer gettin’ chummy with people so they buy your shit?”

Ensconced underneath the blanket, they could pretend it’s their bed back Underground in their humble safehouse they’re lying on. Lulling their instinct into a false sense of security, so the familiar habit would resurface; a hushed conversation, the night soothing their vigilance into dormancy, almost inebriating from how truth easily spilled when it’s only the two of them and the comforting darkness. An easy back-and-forth until Faye slurred mid-talk falling asleep, Levi easily following after blowing out the lantern.

He missed that, a comfort he didn’t know he had and took for granted. For months now, he’s been coming to bed silent, alone. And whenever Faye returned before they all went to bed, enough time to enter the bedroom together with him but not enough to talk, just dove in straight to unconsciousness.

He’s sick of the mask Faye had been wearing, even in his presence. The pristine politeness and soothing calm of a friendly and helpful guy everyone liked, Faye only used that to strangers –he used them on Farlan early in their friendship, he used them on people they worked with, but now he’s using it on Levi? Like he’s someone not to be trusted with.

“What do you want me to be?” Faye said, raw and blank as an uninspired canvas –both his voice and his expression. His gaze a distant star in the bleak heavens. It disturbed Levi more than the faux-politeness. Where did all that fire go? “What do you want to know?”

Levi opened his mouth, but fell short, closed again. Shaking his head, he breathed deep, exhaling slow. Softer. Softer. _No._ Open. Honest. “It ain’t ‘bout what I want. It’s _you_ who are holding back, keeping your problems under a tight lid. You’ll shatter sooner or later,” He couldn’t quite manage to be as soft as he’d preferred to be in this situation, but the intimacy made up for it. “It’s just us, ain’t no stranger here. Just you and me. You can come clean.”

“You want to be comforted with honesty. You missed knowing everything about me the most-”

“It ain’t what- it’s not about me! It’s not about wanting-”

“You missed the old me. You’re insecure-”

“Faye. Faye. You listen. _Listen.”_

Faye snapped his mouth shut, teeth clicking again, as Levi furiously shook his shoulders, shaking head. “Don’t. Don’t give me the mindfuck. Don’t tryna spin this around and distract me, make me mad. You promised. You promised you won’t get away.”

“Then come,” Faye challenged. “Come clean.”

Levi exhaled rough, frustrated. “I need to know if I could trust you. If you could trust me.”

A spark in his green eyes. “Do you trust me?”

“I want to,” it spilled, honesty. Keeping his voice dampened but near spitting, “You know I don’t doubt your judgment, you got a plan. But you’re keeping secrets and acting shady, you don’t even give me a heads up. This ain’t just about me or you, Farlan and Isabel are at stakes here! We’re in the enemy’s territory and you don’t even trust me to watch your back!”

“I don’t want you to watch my back,” Faye spat. “I didn’t ask you to help me.”

Reining back his temper, Levi shot back, “So, you’re afraid I’ll get hurt.” 

Eyes twitching to squint, carefully, Faye said, “I’m not saying you can’t handle it, but like you said, our friends are at stakes too. This is something I have to do alone.”

“But you’re not alone. It’s even more dangerous going solo when we’re deep somewhere unknown and dangerous, one of us going off on his own, and nobody trust each other,” Levi snaked his hand across the space between them, finding Faye’s hand, holding –not too tight, just a squeeze, _I’m here._

“If the team as precarious as it is, we’re heading towards a dangerous route, leading us to unsavory end,” _I’m telling you I’m afraid,_ he tried to convey without admitting it out loud, he couldn’t show weakness. “With us fighting, Farlan’s getting his guard up –getting’ all suspicious with his own shadow, and Isabel’s restless _then_ she’ll get reckless. It gets ugly if we keep it up,” _I can’t protect all of you if none of you stay close together._

‘Cause that’s his essence, ain’t it? He’s the strongest, the one they believed in to lead them out safe, the one protecting. But to have the best outcome, he needed everyone to trust each other. It’s not about him wanting Faye to be back to his old self –the one he missed, it’s about wanting to see the plan through and they could have their dreams fulfilled without losing anyone. Levi needed a clear judgment, a steadfast trust. Couldn’t leave anything to chance.

Faye read between the lines.

He rolled face up, with eyes closed, fingering his temple as if pinching away migraine, Faye exhaled, “For your safety, I can’t have you know the details.”

Finally, they’re getting somewhere. “You don’t gotta tell me the details, but give me something to trust in. We gotta compromise on something, ‘cause none of us gonna rest easy without settling this between us.”

Faye fell into contemplative silence, only his free hand moving, patting, reaching- for the antiseptic cream laid discarded at the side of the matress. Rolling it open with one hand. The hand within Levi’s own didn’t pull away, squeezing back. The light from the stone shone them clear; Levi could see his eyes darting from one invisible point to another, weighing his words with his bottom lip bitten in. The choice was his.

Levi waited.

“Farlan’s plan won’t fall through,” Faye said, too calmly for such dangerous revelation. Swiping a swathe of cream from the tin, “We can’t bank on Erwin Smith to just hide the documents somewhere conspicuous and easy to access.”

"So-" Levi sucked in a breath between his teeth, when the hand glide across his abs up to his solar plexus, lathering the bruises left from their spar with that sharp-smelling cream. “-So you made a plan B.”

“More like an alternative plan, but yeah, let’s go with that. Say it’s plan B,” Faye didn’t realize his other hand had been rubbing a circle with his thumb on Levi’s own, still holding each other, Levi didn’t let him know. “A plan where we don’t need the document.”

Levi squeezed his eyes shut. Reined in not only his rising libido, but now his flaring temper after he put two and two together. He leaned close and whispered to Faye’s ear, gritting teeth, “You gone and done gambling in stupid reckless plan didn’t you.”

Faye shot him an offended look, slick fingers pressing the dip of Levi's collarbones a tad harder, “I planned _months_ for this, it’s a calculated plan.”

“A plan with a hefty price, I bet.”

“Nothin’s good came out smooth, you said that before.”

“I was talking about your bowel movement, but go ahead and use that without the original context.”

“How the _fuck_ did I stand your gross humor all these y- the _point_ is, it’s a high-risk plan, yes. But if it all worked out, we’ll get the citizenship in the surface and you don’t–” his words cut short, Levi worried he had bit his tongue on accident. Faye blinking, hesitating, movement jerky as he forced his palm to continue skating across Levi's chest, roaming down abs and slipped behind, into the canyon of his spine. Circling a spot -a small dip of his lower back- just like his circling thoughts. Eyes flickered up to meet Levi's. His eyebrows crushed in conflicting emotions flitting through his vivid eyes and the thin line of his lips.

Levi refrained from saying a word, waiting patiently for Faye to gather his words. The right words.

“You-” Faye halted, licking his lips, “I don’t want you to go out there. Outside the Walls.”

“That’s why we want to find the documents before the expedition, we gotta bail as fast as we could,” Levi frowned, fruitlessly pointing out the obvious. “Nobody wants to go outside the Walls.”

“You know I’ve been there before.”

Mutely, they stared at each other. Faye's hand had stopped between his shoulder blades, messaging a tight knot Levi didn't know keeping him sore, before retreating back to scoop another pinch of cream. Taking his time playing with it. Levi suddenly seeing with a new light, understanding slithered up his mind foreboding, gradual and subtle like slow-acting venom, a snake in the grass he stepped on and realized too late the fangs had sunk down on his skin the whole time.

Faye loved to talk about the outside world, of what could be found out there, of what he saw –unheeding of the dangers titans posed as if they’re never there, real and roaming the land. Ever hungry. Never satisfied. Faye, who once explored the uncharted land, always longing to come back out despite whatever horror and terror he saw and experienced out there.

Faye, for as long as Levi known, had a wanderlust. Nothing could quench a wanderer’s restless thirst to move forward, inertia was their bane, all manner of restraint they abhorred. What did he saw out there? Beyond these towering Walls, beyond the blood-thirsty nightmares terrorizing the world, that’s worth sacrificing- what was he searching for?

“You won’t understand until you go out there,” Faye said, his tone gained urgency. His hand didn't return to Levi's skin. “But the price you’ll pay isn’t cheap, you’ll lose more often than you win, regret a lot of things along the way –and it’s a long, long, long way. You won’t see an end, walking forward blind in a path of corpses.”

The moment he stepped onto the surface, he thought, _this is worth all that suffering._ The sight he saw, the air he smelled, the emotions he felt-- he didn’t need to look back to the hole leading to a tomb he’s been buried in to think, _I won’t ever let anything drag me back down there._ Then he-

“You keep moving forward,” Levi posed it almost like a question. Intrigued, but also, understanding. _Do you even regret it, when you keep moving forward?_

Faye’s throat bobbed, Levi rubbed a thumb on Faye's wrist still within his grip. Faye’s pulse skipping, a tad faster. “So I can live on; I’ve started my story, I have to see it to the end. I’ve paid my pass in blood, and I could never pay it back, it’s gonna follow me until I’m dead, until _after_ I’m dead.”

_I don’t want the same thing happening to you._

Levi squeezed back Faye’s shaking grip, realizing he almost crushed Levi’s with it, Faye pulled away. But Levi kept holding on, not letting him go. Faye fell silent, letting his words to settle and marinate in Levi, while he’s looking for another sentence to chain together.

Levi waited.

“Just wait, Levi. You’ll see everything I told you about the world, and you’ll see I’m right. But wait just a little bit longer,” Faye had gotten close now, their noses almost touching. Levi could count each individual dark lashes framing Faye’s eyes. “You wanted to live on the surface and open a teashop, right? You told me before.”

“I was drunk when I told you that,” he squashed down the embarrassment from showing on his face, remembering that one and only time he ever lost a drinking game in the bar. Everyone thought Faye was a lightweight, always ordering for a glass of water or limeade whenever they successfully dragged him there. Apparently, the bastard had been hiding a third liver or something. “That’s the alcohol talking.”

“Alcohol doesn’t make you do something you don’t want, it makes you fearless enough to do what your better conscience holding you back from doing,” Faye arched both eyebrows in that smartass way that’d pop a vein from the best of saints, making Levi dreaded what terrible scenarios he might’ve done while inebriated back then and forgotten in the morning. “And don’t think I didn’t know about your little porcelain collection you stashed under the floorboard of our bed.”

“It’s luxury stuff. I stashed emergency cash and some spices there too for safekeeping. Not just cups and teapots.”

“Hm. Funny. I never said anything about cups and teapots _specifically_. Do you keep broken ones too? Like that teacup set I gave you for your birthday? One with the handle snapped and the cup fell into pieces?”

“What’s your damn point.”

“My point-” Faye brought their conjoined hands close to his chest, his other hand sneaked to gently rub the cream to Levi’s inner bicep, the very one he had just pinched yesterday to push him away, sporting a purpling bruise. “-Is that you should live that life you want. I’m doing everything I can so you can have that. So Isabel can have that pet horse she always wanted, visit places I told her about. So Farlan can find a job he likes and terrorize surface merchants with his haggling. If he can subjugate half of the blackmarket for nearly third of the original prices, those merchants don’t stand a chance.”

“And you?” His eyes had lulled to close, blinking open feeling their foreheads had touched. Faye didn’t stop rubbing soothing circles on his forearm, but he felt them stuttered ever so slightly. “You don’t want something to do for yourself?”

Faye had set out those dreams in their minds after all. Isabel wanted a horse pet because Faye told her it’s the best way to enjoy adventure through the countryside, to camp under the stars and stumbling into sights never seen before in the wilderness. Farlan was so infamous with haggling because Faye let him tag along to the black market with him, showing him worlds of wares made from skills and craftsmanship he kept contemplating on to try for days after.

“You never said anything about things you want to do up here,” other than just… _existing_ on the ground again. _What he’s searching for isn’t here_ , the voice in the back of Levi’s mind answered him. _Where would he go, what lengths he would cross, to find it? He’s willing to leave behind everything, ain’t he?_

Faye shrugged. “Coming back here is enough. I can do what I need to do now that I’m back. Believe me when I said I’m doing this gamble for not just me and you, but also everyone else,” the words bore heavier weight than it supposed to, niggling Levi’s deeper senses of something amiss. Something hidden. “Everything I did so far and so on, is part of my plan to keep you, Farlan, and Isabel safe, to see you all happy and alive. All I ask of you is to place your faith in me.” 

Levi nearly jumped off the bunk from something leathery and cool slithering up the arm Faye kept rubbing. He sat up so fast, his head buzzing, the world tilted. A few painful seconds passed in darkness behind his eyelids before he could properly see-

“How-” He gaped in disbelief, relieved he got his back to Faye so couldn’t see his face with the shining stone brightening their corner of the barrack. In his hand, the knife Kenny gave him returned. He pulled it out of its leather sheath, the wicked curved end reflecting the light from the stone. The genuine article. Turning back fast, Levi looked down on Faye still lying on the bed, watching him. “-the fuck did you get it back?”

“I seduced the soldier in charge of the evidence room.”

“You _what_.”

“Kidding,” raising his hands at Levi’s rising hackles, Faye grinned wide, impish and terrible and so damn _alive_. It’s _his_ Faye. “You know I can’t flirt to save my life, a damn pebble won’t blush out of pity for my attempt.”

That’s a bald-faced lie if Levi ever heard one. Or maybe it’s just him. Faye followed his example at much languid pace, sitting up to prop his chin on Levi’s shoulder. Upon being questioned either in court or final judgment weighing his life deeds to be condemned into heaven or hell, Levi would point the blame of his shudder to the long hair tickling him. Not the warm breath near his ear, not the cream-tacky hand smoothing out the stinging bruise on one of his ribs, not the mind-numbing rumble pressing against his back as Faye spoke.

“I can handle it. Trust me, Levi.”

Levi, despite all his wisdom and instincts, made the same mistake as he did years ago. He looked back. From the tail-end of his vision, he met Faye’s eyes looking up at him from under his lashes. Eyes brilliant green-blue, scorching with unbending determination. He might as well burn the world to ashes with them. His soul refined pure, a monster with a fearsome, perfect beauty.

He turned away, looking down at the knife. He kept holding on to it out of both practicality and sentimentality. Kenny left him to dust with only this knife. Levi got nothing else back then. Nobody he could trust. Those people in the brothel he was born in left him and his mother to rot. They're right downstairs, the next room over, in that paper-thin walled shoebox smelling of filth and crawling all over with them.

They didn't bother remembering his mother's name, _Don't bother coming out 'till you got rid of that nasty infection Olympia, customers complaining 'bout it. And don't let your brat loose either, who knows what he caught from you_. For a month he sat vigil for her body to decompose, did everything he could to delay it, there's nothing so much as a knock or a hey you alive? Nobody cared now his mother a rotten goods, no good to sell no more. Nobody wanted him to came out alive out of that room, he couldn't give them anything worthwhile in return. One less burden to worry about. That's the way it was, in Underground.

_“In this place, death is commonplace, I know. And people don’t care as long as it doesn’t happen to them, but I genuinely want you to live.”_

He kept holding onto the knife, knowing he got nothing else. Even Kenny, the first person who gave a smidgeon of shit enough to drag a half-dead starved mongrel of a kid out of his mother's corpse, taught to survive, left him in the end. Would Faye leave too, now he could stretch his wings and soar beyond?

You’re bound to die once you got something to lose. Only keep things you couldn’t live without.

Squeezing the handle one last time, he tilted his hand to Faye’s face, with the knife between two fingers. “Keep it with you. You managed to avoid patrol the whole night and steal it back, figured they won’t catch on anytime soon. It’ll be safer with you.”

Faye took it from his hand. Once Levi was sure he tucked it safely under the mattress, he forced Faye down using his back to push. Faye hit the pillow with an audible _oof!_ Levi wasted no time pulling the blanket up, covering Faye head to toe like a cocoon, he smothered the struggling victim with his entire body.

Levi tucked Faye’s head under his chin. “We good?”

Faye’s head breached out the blanket, inhaling brief, then settling his cheek to Levi’s chest. Huffing, “We good. Just don’t kill me anytime soon from strangulation.”

“You’re the one strangling yourself in your sleep, hogging all the blanket and toasting yourself alive in it. Woke up all sweaty and gross.”

“You look like a corpse when you’re asleep,” Faye shot back, muffled from half-drowned in blanket up to his nose. “The white of your eyes are creepy and your mouth half-open, just waiting for a fly to get sucked in.”

“At least I don’t look like I’m tryna to take a shit but the shit won’t come out when I’m angry.”

“Again with the shit joke. Do you even have any other sense of humor than the ones you found in the toilet?” 

Levi’s arm came up to crush Faye’s head deeper into his chest. “At least I got some. I’m good at dark humor, I’m doing a _practical_ joke right now.”

From under the blanket Faye struggled half-heartedly, pinching Levi until he let go, messy head poking out again. “Everyone can do a dark humor,” Faye enclosed his palm on the shining stone, engulfing darkness back to their blanket tent. “Wanna hear a joke?”

Levi would _kill_ for him. “Go to sleep, dumbass.”

Faye graced him one last impish grin before he tucked the stone under the pillow, blinding them both into complete darkness. Levi felt him turned to face the wall, scooting back to greet Levi’s surging front, and they met.

Levi tucked his nose into the slope of the neck, near Faye’s nape, who slipped his cool toes between Levi’s ankles, pressing for warmth. Levi endured the slight cold with only a miffed grumble, slithering an arm to encircle the toasty body. Comfortably conjoined.

Faye’s hair tickling his cheek. Levi subtly, but deeply, inhaled the scent of a garden under the artificial smell of medicine from the cream. He felt like he took for granted the home he had, the one he now missed. But the sacrifice would be worth it, now they’d able to live in a bigger garden. Sunlight and fresh air surrounding them instead of simply gracing.

“Your hair’s getting too long,” he murmured into it. “You should cut it, it’ll get in the way when you’re using the gear.”

Faye tensed in his arms. He got only silence for a while, Levi thought Faye had fallen asleep faster than usual. Faye eventually hummed, “I suppose it has. But I still need it long.”

“Why?”

“I need it to, for something. I’ll cut it later.”

Levi grunted in begrudging acceptance. Closing his eyes that got suddenly so heavy as he’d became aware he’s been running on pure tension until now, contently ensconced where he loved the most.

The warm skin and Faye’s scent familiar, comforting. Nose brushing the skin of Faye’s nape, a tilt away from kissing; shuddering him with a need to press closer, to chase after that addicting fizzle skittering down his spine, muffled his eardrums, swooping his heartbeat. Sleep which had eluded him yesterday now began to greedily lull him, like lapping tides- _tides? lapping his feet cold but sunlight warmed his cheeks- a gentle sound like seeds running across bamboo-woven basket- choppy wind carrying salt and decay- a shining glimmering blue- See? I told you so, Er-_

The stray thoughts shattered. He frowned, sniffing his palm tucked under his chin. Levi pulled a face, growling.

“Your spit smells like ass. Did you even brush your teeth?”

“Goddess- just let me rest in peace, Levi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _How do you sleep when you lie to me? All that fear and all that pressure, I'm hoping that my love will keep you up tonight..._  
>  Friendly reminder, Faye/Eren will prioritize not lying but concealing the truth behind his words instead of outright lying, but hey, the lyrics fit :) I actually listened to Hozier's Like Real People Do and Sleeping At Last's Eight to get into both Levi's and Eren's mind respectively as the pillow talk scene played out. Also, I said in one of the comments the couple's reconciliation gonna be so sweet it'll rot yall teeth but.... i failed. now it's half-serious, half-humorous. forgive me Q_Q 
> 
> fun fact: arcana major tarot card The Lovers depict a couple naked in the garden of eden with either angel Raphael or holy light gracing them above their heads. i got that in mind while writing the pillow talk, the light stone a good substitute for holy light no? and the garden part would be represented by Faye's scent. The Lovers card represents conscious connections and meaningful relationships, open communication and raw honesty. Given that the couple are naked, they are both willing to be in their most vulnerable states and have learned to open their hearts to one another and share their truest feelings. The card also represents getting clear about your values and beliefs on a more personal level. The Lovers is about choice. The choice about who you want to be in this lifetime, how you connect with others and on what level, and about what you will and won’t stand for.
> 
> Erwin definitely made Eren keep his guard up, as in, realizing he's been slipping and oh boy i better not catch any feelings for a certain someone tonight. nope. but uh. lemme just. grope his muscles real quick. refreshing my anatomy knowledge. yknow. doctor stuff.
> 
> Did I mentioned I fell in love with Nifa on first sight when I saw her in manga and even fall more in love seeing her animated then promptly crumpled in heartbreak as she died right after her first and only screentime on anime? _thanks_ Kenny, Isayama.
> 
> Considering my last few chapters before, this one is short (but not really). I'm sorry for any mistakes in grammar/spelling, thank you for being patient and happily enjoying the story so far!

**Author's Note:**

> The original Faye Jaeger died at the age of 8 on canon year 817. But when Future!Eren takes over the body, technically he was 'reborn' so he starts counting his age from 817. He is 32 instead of 40 in the event of Battle of Trost (year 850).


End file.
